Anything
by SlaveToSeverus
Summary: Hermione wants to get her education back on track but at what cost? BDSM themes/Lemons
1. Chapter 1

"Why in the name of Merlin's saggy left ball would ANYONE want to spend more time with that greasy git than what was needed?"

Hermione fixed a pointed glare at Ron, " _Professor Snape_ is a renowned Master in his field and …"

"… and is a war hero who deserves to be respected," Ron mimicked in a high pitched nasally voice. Hermione turned pink, her scowl darkening. "We've heard you before Mione, but it's not as if the war actually changed the bloke."

Ron was certainly not wrong on that front and several other students eavesdropping nearby nodded and muttered quietly to one another in united agreement. The common room was as usual crowded with students of Godric Gryffindor house of all ages. The youngest, sat together furthest from the fire and hunched over whatever homework they had been assigned. While Ron, being the annoying self appointed 'deputy' Head Boy, had kicked some fourth years from the couch closest to the fire.

Despite the accuracy of his statement Hermione set her jaw in determination, "Pleasant or not, he is one of, if not the, most intelligent man in this castle and I WILL be his apprentice."

Harry sat on the rug just beside Hermione's feet, rather quiet and not offering a word for or against her proposed idea. The dark haired spectacled boy had been more reserved since the end of the war, no longer quick to rash actions and anger, seeming to be more at peace with himself and the world around him.

Ron let out a groan of dissatisfaction, "Mione, you haven't even sat NEWTS, there's no way in hell he's going to say yes. More likely he'll laugh in your face and give you detention."

Hermione crossed her arms, unwilling to allow anyone to deter her. There was more than the desire for learning pushing her, he …. intrigued her. Ever since she had watched his eyes dull, only to be pulled back into life by whatever she could accio from the depths of her nearly bottomless purse, she had been drawn to thoughts of him.

Harry squeezed her calf gently, "Maybe Ron's right, maybe you should let him be."

She cast a sharp glare at him too, it was his bloody fault she couldn't stop thinking about the dour potion's professor. Once he had learned that Hermione was able to save the man at death's door, he had destroyed the memories that were shared with him. When Hermione pried to know more, Harry had snapped, nearly reminiscent of his fifth year and told her that if she really wanted to know then she could talk to the man himself. He said, "I will never betray his trust so don't ask me again."

Hermione blushed at the memory, ashamed that she had been so persistent in bothering her friend until his breaking point. But it was in the past. It had taken nearly a year to restore Hogwarts, time in which Hermione spent travelling with her parents and their recently restored memories, knowing she would soon return to her place in the wizarding world.

The first month back had been odd, everyone moved with trepidation, anticipating an attack, expecting the Carrows to turn every corner. But soon enough the school had fallen into its natural rhythm, classes moved one day to the next, Quidditch tryouts were being held in a weeks' time, and Minerva McGonagall ran the school with as much care as Headmaster Dumbledore had, but perhaps with less geniality.

Ignoring, Harry's gentle recommendation, Hermione cast a tempus, watching as it glowed to 7:59pm. "Dinner is over now so he should be in his office," Hermione said as she donned her outer cloak and checked her sleeve for her wand out of habit.

"Hermione…" Harry started, standing up and looking her in the eye.

"No, Harry, I'm going and that's it," she said firmly.

Ron snorted, "Your funeral, we'll mourn you properly."

Hermione rolled her eyes and left the boys to whatever it is they did without her and slipped from the portrait. The halls chattered with lingering students, the sound such a welcome change from silence that provoked the echoes of screams and chaos that reigned not so long ago.

Her heart raced as she remembered Harry's limp form carried by a sobbing Hagrid, lead by that snake-like madman. The way he taunted and chuckled nearly made her sick from memory. She shook the thoughts from her head as she stood in front of the Professor's door.

Taking a calming breath, Hermione knocked tentatively on the large wooden door. It swung open before her third rap and a familiar drawl told her to enter. He did not look up at her as she stepped in, the door shutting behind her with a click, and continued to mark the parchments in front of him.

Not wanting to break his concentration, Hermione waited, but when it seemed he was intent on ignoring her presence she cleared her throat.

"What is it, Miss. Granger?" his eyes still did not raise to her.

Hermione wrung her hands behind her back, feeling a wave of heat rush through her. "Sir… I have come to you with a bit of a proposition."

The quill slowed for a moment, but still he did not raise his head, "Whatever it is, surely it could have waited until Monday, the weekend has barely started."

Again heat swelled through her, making her palms sweat and her mind far less clear than it had been moments ago, "I thought you might need the weekend to consider so I…"

He snorted, so like her friend that it incensed her, "Since when have you known me to consider anything? The answer will be yes or no and you will leave this room regardless. Out with it already."

Hermione grit her teeth in annoyance, swallowing her pride before continuing, "Sir I wish to become your apprentice whilst still in school." Before he could shoot her down, as his lips were opening to do, she continued, "I am well ahead of the coursework supplied for this year, no other classes would be compromised as a result, and I am more than qualified to handle, at the bare minimum, the first year of apprentice work as I've already done extensive research on what is required of it."

Though his quill was lowered through her speech, his gaze remained firmly fixed on the paper in front of him. Hermione quickly continued, pulling from her robes a folded parchment, "I've already drawn up a Master apprentice contract, the standard commitments outlined, and should you feel it acceptable your magical signature and my own is all that's required. Headmistress McGonagall has already approved should I get your consent."

She laid the parchment over the one currently in front of him. The sweat from her palms left a barely noticeable mark that made her cringe. His silence was unnerving, the way he refused to look at her was frustrating, she simply wanted to shake the man.

He scanned it briefly, eyes flitting back and forth over the parchment, and she waited. Finally, "Well it seems you have figured everything out Miss. Granger. I give up my time, energy, knowledge, so that you may get ahead in life. What a _joy_ it will be."

A pit in her stomach formed as she realized the sweetly laced tones for the sarcasm it was. Her heart was back to a full jack hammers pace, tattooing an imprint onto her chest with its ferocity.

"Perhaps while I'm at it, I'll invite Potter to Madam Puddifoot's for a spot of tea," he spat derisively.

Tears of frustration welled behind her eyes, the pit in her stomach managed to lodge in her throat, making it nearly impossible to swallow.

"We could make it a goddamn Gryffindor parade and invite Longbottom along …"

"Stop," she said quietly, eyes to the floor in front of her, willing the tears to stay hidden.

His voice came out in a hiss, "Hear this, you will _never_ be my apprentice, qualified or not, I simply would not be able to tolerate your presence for any longer than necessary."

Her face whipped up, his back was to her now, and it was all too much. Rage swelled within her, his cruel words cutting through her meek demeanor and making the dragon within her flare to life. "YOU OWE ME!"

The words came out before she could hold them back and he spun to face her, his dark eyes glaring daggers into her own. Internally she felt a wave of relief wash over her, too many nights she had dreamt of his bleak lifeless eyes. To see his eyes alight with fire, even directed at her was comforting.

"It seems you were placed in the wrong house Granger, blackmail is not a trait of yours, or so I thought." His eyes remained on hers, as if looking into her to see her intent, what her end was.

Hermione looked back willingly and openly, trying desperately to convey how much she wanted this, "Please Sir, we've already lost nearly two years, I simply want my education back on track." When it did not seem like he was going to change his position she added, "I'll do anything, Sir."

His eyes darkened noticeably, nostrils flaring, "Watch your words, Miss. Granger"

Realizing how her words could be construed she flushed, but did not back down or look away from him, "Anything, Sir."

There was a beat of silence, then the sound of rustling parchment as he snatched her contract from the desk. A brief moment of exhilaration soared through her before a gut wrenching force nearly tore the tears from her, as he ripped the parchment in half three times, excruciatingly slow.

"Get out."

Swallowing hard, Hermione nodded once, "Thank you for your time, Professor." When the door slammed shut behind her, Hermione ran as fast as her legs could carry her back to Gryffindor tower. Some of the common room had cleared out, but diligent as ever Harry and Ron had remained by the fire for her return.

Their faces bright immediately turned to concern as they took in her no doubt ashen face. She was on the verge of tears, the lump in her throat threatening to suffocate her if she didn't let it out.

Ron started, "Mione, what happ-"

"Not now, Ron," she choked out and then dashed up to the girl's dormitory, knowing they wouldn't be able to follow her.

Once the curtain was drawn on her four poster bed and a silencing spell cast, she let it out, tears of frustration and anger staining her pillow. Stupid. She was so stupid. It was not like he'd given any indication that he was anymore amicable to her than any other student. And now she had practically thrown herself at him like some Knockturn Alley trollop but instead of money she would be paid with his knowledge and company.

The tears soothed her, rid her of every ill emotion until she was empty. Not long after, she was fast asleep; his furious ebony eyes alight just along the edge of her consciousness.

-]

 **Hey everybody! Since my other story is all wrapped up, and was far more fluffier than I usually write I just had to start a new one. This one will definitely be a little more ... dark. I would say alot of BDSM themes, and a very ... very ... sadistic Snape. *shivers* Getting ahead of myself, but please read and review! And if you have any personal input you'd like to share I always love ideas. Thanks for being awesome you guys xo**


	2. Chapter 2

If Severus Snape had thought Hermione Granger was a nuisance before, he had severely underestimated her ability to get under his skin. Simply having the girl in his class was enough to irritate him, but to have her there knowing she had brought him back from the brink of death was enough to make him grind his teeth.

Then the silly little chit had nearly offered herself up to him, and a month later he still could think of nothing else but the way her eyes had glazed over with unshed tears. He had been hard as a rock, cock straining against the fly of his slacks, and he was glad for the voluminous robes he often draped himself in. A fucking month and he still couldn't stop his eyes from drifting to her.

Now for instance, he surreptitiously glanced over the Gryffindor table. She was there as always, tweedledee and tweedledum on either side of her as she picked at the food in front of her. Ever since he had torn up her contract and threw her from his office, she had been quieter, opting to push the food around her plate rather than partake in a full meal.

He clenched the fork in his hand and forced his eyes to his own plate. It was not his fault the little bint was starving herself. If she wanted to waste away with a feast offered to her every night then it was her own business. He shouldn't even notice the eating habits of one particular student.

But it was not the only thing he noticed, no that was not the problem with Miss. Granger. He noticed her scent, lilacs and vanilla, as he made his rounds in class. He noticed the way her shirt clung to her chest as if she hadn't bought a new one since fifth year when she was a scrawny teen. And worst of all he noticed her long shapely legs leading up to what was no doubt a pert, pristine white bottom that was in need of some devastating colours.

He swallowed hard around his food and fought back the arousal stirring inside of him. Forcing his gaze to his own house, he tried to ration with himself for what seemed to be the hundredth time. Hermione Granger was an annoying swot. She was over eager, had a million questions, and talked far too much for his liking. She was unorioginal, unimaginative, and followed her text books like a bible rather than apply outside knowledge to her brewing. He stabbed his potato rather viciously; she was also innocent.

There was no doubt in his mind that she had rid herself of her hymen throughout the war or shortly after. That was not the innocence he was talking about. She was innocent to the things he wanted. What he wanted to do to her. He scowled darkly at his food. He wanted her.

He had wanted her from the moment she had put that contract on his desk. She may not have understood just how bound to him she would have been but he did. For the next four years he would own her, she would not have a life but the one he granted her if he so wished.

Once again he glanced to the Gryffindor table and directly locked eyes with the woman invading his mind more persistently than the Dark Lord had ever done. She looked startled at having been 'caught' and demurely cast her eyes downward. Inwardly he cursed as her naturally submissive qualities came to the forefront.

He chanted in his mind, as he had done so often for the last month, that she did not know what she was offering him. She didn't know that he wanted to bend her over his desk and turn her behind black and blue and relish in the tears that poured forth. She didn't know how he wanted to fuck her throat and make her gag. Most of all, she didn't know he wanted to bury himself inside of her and whisper the most depraved and humiliating things to her as she came on his length. The tenting in his trousers came to full attention and he cursed softly.

When she had said anything, she could not have understood just how depraved his mind truly was. How warped his sexuality had become in his time with the Deatheaters and even after the Dark Lords first fall. Another poignant stab to his potatoes drew some attention to him.

"Whatever your dinner has done to upset you Severus, surely it couldn't deserve the lashing you're so eagerly providing."

Minerva's voice, along with a few chuckles from the other staff, snapped him from his inner musings. "It has been a trying day, not all of us get to lounge in the Headmistresses office," he quipped.

"Lounge!? Is that what I do?!" she fired back, her Scottish accent becoming more prominent in her anger. "I'll have ye know I was up to my ears in meetings with the board o' governors all day not to mention that business with yer second year Slytherins and third year Gryffindors."

Severus smirked, enjoying how easily riled the new Headmistress was. It was much harder to get a rise out of Dumbledore, especially at the head table, "My apologies Headmistress, it must have been dreadful."

Minerva cast him a glare, debating his sincerity, before turning back to her own meal and her previous conversation with Sprout on her other side. Thankfully the interruption had eased his stirring desires, and before he could give it further thought, he left the Great Hall.

 **Short chapter today but I wanted to get something out to you guys before the long weekend. And oh I have so many delicious things in my head for this story. As always read and review, your words are my fuel! xo**


	3. Chapter 3

Hermione let out a silent sigh, chopping her ingredients for the required potion with little enthusiasm. The potion itself was one she had made plenty on the run with two foolhardy boys prone to injury; a blood replenishing potion. In fact, she had used quite a few of her own batches on the dark man circling their tables like a vulture.

Surreptitiously, she eyed her Professor. It had been over a month since she had made her request for apprenticeship and in that time he had taken to outright ignoring her presence. It was utterly humiliating to be disregarded so finally, as if she weren't worth the dirt on his shoes. In hindsight, it wasn't like she could have expected anything more. She was grateful it wasn't worse and that he hadn't taken to publicly shaming her.

"Miss. Granger, eyes on your desk!"

Hermione started as his words whipped to her and she quickly focused on the ingredients in front of her. Heat blossomed her cheeks, colouring her otherwise pale complexion, a dead give away to her embarrassment at having been caught staring at him.

More often than even before her proposal she found herself thinking about him, staring at him during mealtimes, watching with more rapt attention than was necessary as he demonstrated a complex potion for the class. He was mesmerizing. Too often he had caught her looking and no doubt she looked like a silly little girl with a crush but it was far more than that. She was absolutely infatuated with him. His mere proximity could make her perspire, her heart race, and her womanhood to ache with the desire to be stroked.

The blush on her cheeks burned harder as she willed her thoughts to change their course. She had never intended to develop this attraction to him and when she had presented the contract to him, she hadn't been thinking anything of the sort. It was strictly in pursuit of her academic advancement. But since he had reprimanded her for her choice of words, the idea had been sowed deep into her mind and it was all she could think about most days. His voice caressing her, his hands teasing her, what might his cock look like, thoughts like these kept her having to change her panties before dinner most nights.

A perfect crimson potion simmered softly before her as she started her counter clockwise stirs. A dull ache started in her forehead, throbbing softly and making her rub the spot with a wince. _1…2…3…add a clockwise stir, repeat,_ she chanted softly in her head, noting each repetition with a tap of her toe. Suddenly, an image of Snape looming over her, hand in her hair as she took his straining erection into her mouth, flashed before her eyes. He forced her down to the base and held her there until she struggled against him and still he did not let her up until she shoved him back forcefully, gagging and coughing. Without waiting long for her to catch her breath he pulled her back onto him, repeating the process with a growl of pleasure.

Hermione flushed, a pool of want flooding her knickers as he walked by her table. Never had she imagined something so… rough. The throbbing in her temple pierced sharply but she ignored it best she could and stopped her stirring, allowing the potion to simmer for the last ten minutes. Again, another fantasy took hold of her as she saw her own body trussed up with rope and hanging from what she imagined his private rooms might look like. Her legs were tied tightly to her stomach, as if she were in a yoga child's pose, her arms behind her back, and her mouth stuffed with a rubber ball. Snape circled her, just as he was apt to do, a riding crop in hand as he trailed it over her exposed skin. The crop came down with a hard _thwack_ against her backside, making her cry out around the gag.

A sharp stabbing pain in her head made her wince, the fantasy falling to the wayside. What in the world was that? She had never thought of anything even remotely relating to … well … _that_ before. Although, the thought of being bound and available for his use did nothing to ease the clenching of her nether regions. What was wrong with her? Did she really want to be his play thing? Swallowing down a whimper as she imagined several more things he could do to her, the answer was quite clear.

When the final minutes of simmering ticked by, she bottled and labeled her potion, opting to wait out the last ten minutes of class at her desk. Any extra time in his presence was always enough to fuel her fantasies for a few nights in the privacy of her warded curtains.

Hermione rubbed her temples, willing the aching to subside. Never being prone to headaches the pain was enough to make her wince aloud again. Perhaps she would visit Madame Pomfrey for a headache reliever before dinner.

As she glanced to Snape sitting at his desk, their eyes locked and she sucked in a breath. A vision flashed before her, more vivid than the last, of her bent over the desk where he now sat. Her skirt was flipped, her panties tugged half way down her thighs as he drilled her into the desk at a ferocious pace. One hand of his was fisted in her hair and yanking her back hard with each thrust. A breathless groan escaped her each time his hips snapped against her. His other hand came down hard against her already rosy cheeks and her groans turned to a sharp cry.

Quickly as the vision started, it ended as he offered a sneer to a Ravenclaw submitting their potion on his desk. Realization flooded her in an instant making her cheeks red for an entirely different reason. He was using Legilimency on her! The nerve! The audacity! The complete and utter breach of privacy! Hermione fumed, snatching her potion off her desk and slamming it onto his.

The pain in her temple subsided as she shoved her workbook in her bag, growling as a quill clattered to the floor. Other students were bottling their potions now and each made their way to the Potions Master's desk to deliver what they had managed to create.

"You have thirty seconds to submit what you have and get out," he drawled in a bored voice. Movement quickened as no one desired to find out whatever the repercussions were. Hermione slung her packed bag over her shoulder, incensed and red-faced, wanting to get as far from him as possible.

"Not you, Miss. Granger."

With more force than necessary, she slammed her bag with a _thud_ back onto her desk. Harry gave her a sympathetic look, signaling he would wait for her outside the classroom. She shook her head, encouraging him to head to dinner where she would catch up.

Once the final students had left and the door had been locked and silenced, Hermione turned to face him, "HOW DARE YOU!? You just, what, go into my head and start messing around in there?"

He seemed shocked by her outburst, stunned momentarily.

"I should hex you! I should report you to the Headmistress! I should –"

He sliced his wand through the air and silenced her, a furious look in his eyes, "To whom do you think you are speaking to?" In a flash, he was in front of her, her behind pressed against the desk behind her as she glared up at him. "I have no idea what you're blathering on about and unless you have some tangible evidence to provide, I doubt the Headmistress has time to indulge your paranoid fantasies."

Fire bloomed up her neck, outraged that he could be so callous, and that he was right. They were standing no more than inch apart, her head just past his shoulders as she held her glare.

"If you're quite done, I can unsilence you and we can have a proper conversation, or you can stay silenced as I speak. I assure you the latter greatly appeals to me," he sneered. Despite the further rage he induced she nodded once in agreement and his spell was lifted.

"What do you want?" she spat as she rubbed her throat which felt sore.

A muscle in his jaw twitched, "50 points from Gryffindor for being an insolent little brat."

Hermione bit her tongue to cut off any further retorts. No doubt all of Gryffindor was sitting in the Great Hall to dinner and had just witnessed a severe drop in their hourglass. They stayed that way, each glaring daggers into the other for a long moment. Hermione could feel the heat from his body emanating from him, and regardless of her anger, she couldn't help but be aroused. This was without a doubt the closest she had ever been to him. He smelled like pine needles and spices.

"Do you still wish to apprentice under me?"

His voice and his words stunned her. He was giving her a chance? "Y-yes Sir."

He sneered, "Do not be so eager . There are new terms we need to discuss. Such as my … payment."

Hermione frowned, "Sir, I don't have much saved, but I could get my parents to-"

"Keep your muggle money. That is not what I require," he snapped. She watched as his gaze travelled over her body, up her legs and lingering over her chest lasciviously.

Again her cheeks coloured, "You … you can't mean…"

"You were the one who offered _anything_. I am merely taking you up on said offer," he leaned in closer, the desk scraping against the floor as she tried to move back. He was predatory and she was prey, her heart racing with her fight-or-flight instincts raging. It was one thing to imagine, it was another to have his leering attention on her. If her panties had anything to say on the matter, they would be telling an entirely different tale.

He chuckled darkly, "Not here and now, Granger. I'm giving you the opportunity to spend this weekend considering my proposal." His voice was vibrating dangerously close to her ear, her heart pounding with desire as the baritone caressed her, "But know this, everything I've shown you today, barely scratches the surface of my depravity. The things I will do to you… some you will enjoy, and others I will obtain immense satisfaction from your displeasure."

She was panting obscenely now, like a dog in heat. His words, that voice, his body so close to her, she was surprised she didn't pass out from the sheer intensity of it all. The lust was shining in his eyes like a glittering pool of toxic sludge that she was sure she would be more than happy to drown in.

Before she could get out a word, he stepped to his desk and handed her a stack of parchments. "A new contract for you to peruse, _privately_."

She took the stack, thumbing through it curiously before his voice demanded her attention once more.

"There is no negotiating. This is my offer and if it is unacceptable then find a new Master." The dark wizard turned his back to her, the door to the classroom flinging open in a bout of wandless magic, "Good evening, Miss. Granger."

The spell was broken, her instincts immediately flaring to life once more as she snapped up her book bag and fled the room as fast as her legs could carry her. Before she could run into anyone, Hermione stuffed the contract in her bag, planning to very carefully read over each detail with a fine toothed comb.

 **So I was feeling rather ambitious and thought I would get another chapter out today. Oh isn't Severus just so utterly dark and delicious? As always read and review please! I love knowing how you guys are enjoying it so far! xo**


	4. Chapter 4

The words of the fifth years' essay swam before him, its content barely making its way into the Potions Master's head as he reread the same paragraph several times. It really was a dreadfully abhorrent piece of work that he didn't feel he actually needed to read before giving it a spiky D atop the page.

But the usual pile of filth he had to mark next to him was not the reason for his distraction this evening. A certain bushy haired little swot was the one dancing around his mind and making any mundane task drift to thoughts of her.

It was Sunday evening and still she had not come to him. The contract had been handed over on Friday and no doubt she had scoured it that evening, combing through it in fine detail until she nearly had it memorized. He snorted; no, she most definitely had memorized it. Perhaps she had changed her mind, determined that being his personal play toy was not worth her educational pursuits. Then again, this was Hermione Granger.

Realizing that he was not going to get any further along in the drivel that was Dennis Creevey's essay, he pushed away from his desk and went to pour himself a tumbler of fire whiskey. The drink scalded his throat familiarly and he closed his eyes in bliss. A few years of teaching and he would retire, perhaps wind up in some cottage by the sea, experimenting with potions and keeping away from the entirety of the wizarding world. Those thoughts kept him going when the most dunderheaded of individuals crossed his path.

Suddenly he was pulled from his reverie as the wards to his office went off. Scowling darkly and tossing back the remainder of his drink, he stalked out of his private rooms and into the adjoining office. There was a soft knock at the door and he knew immediately who was on the other side.

He opened the door, a little confused to see no one, before an invisible force pushed past him and Hermione appeared within the office, a shimmering cloak in hand. Potter's blasted cloak. He really wished he could destroy that particular garment thread by thread.

"You are out past curfew, ," he said without much barb. Taking in her appearance, he noticed she was wearing muggle clothing rather than her uniform. Snug jeans clung to her hips and a loose blouse silhouetted her figure rather alluringly.

She shuffled her feet nervously, her eyes downcast, "I thought this was a conversation meant for after hours."

Arousal sprung to life in him, his cock immediately at attention and straining to break free. He knew exactly why she was here and the thought that soon he may have her lithe, tight, young body as his disposal for every cruel dark fantasy he could imagine made his cock throb insistently.

He led her to the portrait in the back corner of his office, a black cauldron shimmering with midnight blue potion in its depths, and tapped it once with his wand. The portrait swung inward, leading into his dimly lit quarters, "Perhaps we should have this discussion in private then."

She looked in tentatively, he could nearly hear her heartbeat drumming in her chest, before taking the first step inside. The room was spacious with a comfortable armchair and sofa surrounding a fireplace, book shelves lined most walls, filled with numerous tombs. A desk stacked with parchments sat in the corner and two closed doors furthest from where they had just entered drew her eye.

"My bedroom, Granger. Something you will not be privy to this evening," he smirked as her eyes grew wide and a blush stained her cheeks.

He offered her a seat at the couch before pouring himself another generous measure of whiskey and offering her a similar glass. She looked shocked by the offer but took the glass with a shaky hand, gulping down a healthy dose.

"To what do I owe the _pleasure_ , ," he took the armchair across from her, noting how her eyes were drawn down to his wide legged seating position.

She cleared her throat, "I've come to discuss the contract you gave me." The contract was then pulled from the cloak resting beside her, looking as worn as a well loved book.

"I thought I made it clear that there was no negotiating," he said with a frown.

"I- I know Sir. I just have … questions."

"Shocking..." he drawled. A fire flared to life behind her eyes and he smirked, enjoying how easy it was to coax her from her shy shell. Soon she would be crying out his praises as his cock stroked her to orgasm after orgasm.

Determinedly, she held the apprenticeship contract to him, "It says here, 'The apprentice will be available at all hours, except wherein family emergency, death, or injury arises.' How can I do this when taking my other classes?"

He twirled his glass lazily, "For the first year of your apprenticeship I will be cognizant of your school schedule and the demands that come along with it. However, you will immediately hand over your Head Girl badge and the duties that come along with it. Any other extracurricular's will also desist."

The young witch chewed her lower lip thoughtfully, "Will there be any time outside of class for … socializing?"

Annoyance flashed through him. Of course she was thinking about her silly little friends, about Potter. "I will grant you Sunday afternoons until curfew to spend with those two idiots who nearly lead you to your death on several occasions."

Her nose wrinkled, as if she wanted to respond and stand up for them, but she quelled the urge, making his arousal even more prominent. It will be so easy to bend her to his will, to his desires and needs. Suddenly he wished he hadn't given her time with her friends at all so he could spend more time bedding the submissive girl.

Her eyes scanned the document quickly before pointing out another clause, "Right here it says, "The apprentice will reside in living quarters acceptable to the Master. Will I be moving?"

He nodded, taking another sip of whiskey, "You will. Each teacher here has two bedrooms connected to their private living spaces in the event they wish to take on an apprentice. Often we will spend late nights brewing or working on other such research. It is convenient for you to be so _accessible_." The last word was drawn out in his most seductive tone, making her rub her legs together minutely. He held back a grimace as his cock dug into his zipper even further.

With a nod, she placed the contract on the short coffee table in front of them and with a shaky hand reached for the next contract. Again his dick gave a lurch as he saw an even fiercer determination in her eye.

"It … it says here, 'There are no boundaries of place, time, or situation in which the s-slave may willfully refuse to obey the directive of the Master without risking punishment.'" A furious blush coloured her cheeks, running down her neck and below the blouse, tantalizing him to see how far down that blush could go.

"I feel that is quite self explanatory," he said dismissively.

"I just… Does that mean … anywhere?" she whispered, eyes down to her feet.

He placed the empty tumbler on the table rather hard, startling her eyes up to his own, "It means whenever I wish it, however I wish it. If I tell you to bend over in the store rooms while your classmates are working you will do so." His voice was dangerously low, leaning forward elbows resting on his knees, "If I come to you in the middle of the night you will spread your legs and welcome me without complaint. You will obey every command and every rule I set forth or suffer the consequences."

The pulse point at her throat beat so wildly he could see it, her pupils dilated as she stared into his eyes. It was intoxicating to see how his words had such a physical effect on her. He could hardly stand the anticipation.

"What sorts of … punishment?" her voice was meek.

A nasty smile spread across his lips, "Ones that you will thoroughly NOT enjoy. If I find that physical punishment is not enough of a deterrent, then more humiliating methods will be employed."

It seemed as if the red had stained her cheeks permanently and it made him imagine another set of cheeks he wish to permanently stain red… or black and blue. The image only proved to further harden him and to avoid the embarrassment of letting her see just how much he wanted her, he accioed the bottle of whiskey to him and poured another shot for the two of them.

She gingerly took hers and gulped the entire thing down, impressing him slightly when she didn't cough it up again. He wondered vaguely if he should get her drunk enough and fuck her right now on that couch. The thought was nice, but he wanted her fully cognizant for their first encounter, and he was a patient man. He could wait.

Once more she scanned through the document, "Ah here!" There was a hard edge to her tone when she spoke, "'The master may accept other slaves or lovers.' Do you plan to?"

He smirked, amused at the possessiveness she was allowing to shine through, "And if I am?"

"Well it says here right before, 'The slave may not seek any other master or lover or relate to others in any sexual or submissive way...'"

"'…without the master's permission.' I know what the contract says, Granger. Is there a point to this?"

She glared at him, "It seems rather unfair to expect fidelity from me when the same can't be guaranteed of you."

A derisive chuckle escaped him, "And what ever made you think I was playing fair?" The look of outrage from her made him smirk, "Rest assured it is highly unlikely I will be bedding anyone but you, our schedules will be very busy."

Still glaring at him, she picked up the contract and continued, "'The master may give the slave to other masters…'," she paused here, shooting him a disapproving sneer, "I am NOT a toy to be passed around."

He gripped her wrists, dragging her to her knees in front of him and fisted a hand in her curls, spurned by the defiance he saw in her eyes. She squeaked in fear, wincing as he tugged her head back to meet his gaze. Defiance was replaced with fear, arousal, and anger. "You will be whatever I want you to be so long as you are contracted to me. If I want to bring you to a club and watch you suck every cock in there I will."

Anger welled within her and before she could respond he continued, "If I want to bring Lucius-fucking-Malfoy here to fuck your pretty cunt I will," he tugged her hair a little harder, noticing the way her look turned to one of repulsion and lust at the mention of the elder Malfoy. "If you sign that document you belong to me," another tug. "I own you."

Unshed tears glistened in her eyes and instead of encouraging him to ease her concerns, it only caused the darkness within him to swell, "I told you to think on this carefully, Granger. Not all of my appetites will be to your liking and that will not dissuade me from perusing them anyways."

Before he could no longer control himself, he released her, and watched her scramble back into her seat. A few wayward tears had fallen and this game couldn't go on for much longer. Either he would snap and fuck her against any available flat surface or she would run screaming bloody murder from his rooms.

He summoned a quill and inkwell from his desk and pushed the first contract to her, "The apprentice contract requires a magical signature as well as a written one."

There were several moments where she didn't move, staring at the contract and quill as if either might snap up and bite her. Then, slowly, she took the quill from him, signing the document with a flourish before pointing her wand at it. " _Signum_ ," she said with an upward flick. A small insignia of her initials appeared glowing gold on the parchment before fading to black.

He mimicked her and duplicated the contract so he would have his own copy to keep on file. The slave contract was put in front of her next. Shaking, she looked to him for guidance, he said softly, "This only requires a magical signature."

Surprise briefly stunned her before she duplicated the same wand movement. Severus once again mimicked her, watching the spiky S.S. flash across the page. A sharp cry rang out beside him and he cursed loudly. She looked up at him fearfully.

"I had forgotten…" he started, rubbing his chest sorely.

"FORGOTTEN WHAT?!" she cried, rubbing her lower back.

Conjuring a full length mirror, he encouraged her to stand and lift the back of her blouse. Stark against her smooth skin, the same spiky S.S. greeted their sight just above the edge of denim. Hermione turned to him, eyes blazing with fury. "What in the fuck is that?!"

Inwardly, he relished the foul mouthedness but for now he would need to curb that instinct, "Language Granger, it is a … branding of sorts. Not permanent, simply for the duration of the contract."

The heat had not dimmed or dulled in her eyes, "And what purpose does it serve?"

Glaring he unbuttoned his shirt and exposed his chest to her. A delicately cursive H.G. shone, residing over where his heart would be, "They are connected. They will ensure certain clauses of the contract are obeyed."

The girl's face paled, "But – what if …"

"Calm that ever exasperating brain of yours," he hissed, buttoning up his shirt again. He was immediately wondering if this annoying woman was worth his time and thought maybe he should have put more consideration into this rather than let his dick run the show. "It will simply alert me to any… indiscretions. And likewise it will keep me updated on your well being as you are now my responsibility."

Curiously, she lifted her shirt again and stroked the insignia on her body. Severus clenched his teeth as he felt a similar ghosting of fingers against the connected mark. Before his cock could give away anything he cleared his throat, "I think it's about time you head back to Gryffindor tower."

Her gaze snapped to him, "But … I thought…" A rosy blush finished her sentence.

He smirked, "There will be plenty of time for me to receive my payments soon enough. For now, go to sleep. While you are in classes tomorrow a house elf will ready your room and bring your things for you."

With a frown, Hermione collected the Potter brat's cloak and her copies of each contract, "What about potions Sir? What do I tell everyone?"

He rolled his eyes, "You are obviously exempt from Potions and will sit your NEWT within the week," she let out a squeak of horror, "And you will tell everyone the truth; that you are my apprentice. However," and here he glared at her sternly, "You shall tell no one of your payment arrangement, that is my first order to you."

With a gulp, she nodded, walking out of his private rooms and into his office. Before she opened the door to exit, she looked back to him, a curious expression in her eyes, "What made you change your mind?"

He smirked, letting his eyes roam over her curves so tightly packed into such tight jeans, "Really, Miss. Granger? I would've thought that was obvious."

That blush certainly was becoming on her. With a whispered goodnight she was gone, running off to her den before she would spend the remainder of four years in the snake pit.

 **AH how much fun was that? Very fun for me to write and I hope more so for you all to read. I'm super excited for more to come and hope you all continue to read and review. Your reviews fuel my inspiration.**

 **And if anyone was curious, this is a link to the BDSM contract.** **http (:) / a/**


	5. Chapter 5

"YOU'RE WHAT?!"

"Harry, keep your voice down!" Hermione hissed through clenched teeth, nervously smiling at a few Gryffindors who glanced their way. The Great Hall was bustling with activity as it did most mornings but even that could not drown out Harry's exclamation. There was a momentary lapse of quieter tones before regular activity ensued.

Casting a weary glance at the head table, she noticed Professor Snape glaring at her before returning to his meal. _Master Snape,_ she inwardly corrected herself. "Professor Snape has agreed to take me on as an apprentice," she repeated quietly.

Ron simply looked pale, staring at his food as if he had just coughed up a slug on it. It was such a rare sight to see the redhead without a mouthful of food that she couldn't help but bite back a grin.

Harry looked furious, "Oh no we heard that part, Hermione. It was the second bit that I'm having a hard time following."

Hermione willed herself not to blush, "I will be residing in Professor Snape's quarters for the remainder of the term to be more accessible to him when he needs me."

A look of disbelief flashed through his eyes, and his ginger counterpart looked as though he really might puke up a slug.

"Oh really Harry," Hermione sighed in exasperation, "It's not as if I'll be sleeping in his bed." Here Ron let out a pitiful wince. "He said we'd be working late most nights and it would just be convenient for me not to travel between Gryffindor Tower and the Dungeons."

Harry snorted, "Oh sure, he's always been concerned about what's most convenient for us."

Hermione rolled her eyes, "Regardless, I've already signed the contract. I'll be moving there by the end of class."

Ron's eyes narrowed, a forkful of eggs paused mid way to his mouth, "When could you have signed it if you spent all day with us yesterday?"

Before Hermione could come up with a decent enough lie about getting up early, Harry sucked in a hard breath, "It was you!"

Heat blossomed through her cheeks, giving away any chance of fibbing about sneaking out the night before.

"My cloak wasn't where I'd left it and I thought I must've moved it but you snuck in last night and took it didn't you!?"

Ron had the audacity to look scandalized and cover his chest protectively, "Merlin Mione, what if I had slept starkers?"

Hermione growled, "Oh shut up Ronald." She turned to Harry, "I'm sorry I took it without permission but I had to do it while I still had the courage to, and I put it back! It's in your trunk instead of in a heap on the floor." Wrinkling her nose she continued, "You know you really should pick up after yourselves, that dorm was a mess."

Both boys rolled their eyes, this is what they were comfortable with, a nagging Hermione was more appropriate than one who sneaked around after curfew to meet with Professors. Another blush graced her cheeks when she recalled what she would be doing with her Professor over the next few months.

Lying was not something she was used to, lying to her best friends even more so. But telling them she was bound to the dark wizard would only cause the two hotheads to charge in and rescue her. Or projectile vomit. The insignia on her lower back tingled, she didn't need saving. She had chosen this.

Most of the Great Hall was wrapping up their breakfast and collecting their things for class and her friends looked to her expectantly. Hermione shook her head minutely, "I won't be going to class today, Professor Snape says I'll be writing my Potions NEWT by the end of the week so I need to cram in eight months of studying."

Ron stared at her mouth agape before turning to Harry with the same incredulous look in his eyes, "Who is she, Harry?" Harry rolled his eyes and jerked him forward by the shoulder, dragging him along while the rest of the crowd similarly dwindled out of the Great Hall. Grabbing her book bag, Hermione headed to the library, a knot of anticipation forming in her stomach as she considered what would be happening later that evening.

...

Hermione stood at the entry way to Professor Snape's office. _Master Snape,_ she chided herself for the seventh time that day. Her hand hovered in mid air, curled in a fist and poised to knock, but no movement came. It was as if every muscle in her body had detached itself from her brain. Everything had been leading up to this. She had unwittingly offered up her body as payment for his educational services and she was stuck outside the door like a nervous first year.

The girls' dormitory had been emptied of any trace of her, all belongings vanished and that was when the true gravity of the situation hit her like a bludger to the head. She was to be Severus Snape's apprentice and, she ground her teeth, slave. The only reprieve she would be allowed was Sunday afternoons, where her friends would no doubt question her relentlessly.

A part of her reveled in having a secret. Having spent nearly a year in a tent with both boys, well, there wasn't much they hadn't shared in one way or another. The thrill overcame her anxiety and she knocked, far more confidently than she felt.

"Enter."

Hermione walked in, her book bag slung to one side, "Hello, Sir," she said meekly, inwardly cringing at how timid she sounded.

Severus Snape, her Master, looked up from the book in his hands, snapping it shut, and smirked prominently, "Good evening, Miss. Granger."

The door swung shut behind her, locking her in with the dour man. He didn't say a word, simply lead her to the portrait of the simmering cauldron, now glittering with an acid green potion, and tapped his wand to the top left corner. "Since you carry my magical signature, you may enter these rooms as you see fit, just tap your wand as I have."

He spun sharply to face her, causing her to nearly collide into his chest. The proximity had her heart rate spiking dangerously, the first telltale signs of arousal coating her lips. "Despite the fact these are shared quarters, if you ever invite your friends into _my_ domain, the consequences will be most _unpleasant,"_ his eyes were hard, glittering onyx with untold promise, she swallowed hard and nodded.

Just as the night before, the room seemed warm. Perhaps it was the seemingly endless shelves of books whispering her name, or the glowing, roaring fire keeping the dungeon chill at bay, but whatever it was, it put her at ease.

 _Master_ Snape led her to the furthest door in the back corner of the spacious common area, "These are your rooms. This door will never be locked or warded in anyway. You may close it as you see fit," he smirked, "and equally I may open it as I wish without warning."

A flare of indignation swelled in her chest only to be quelled by another hard look. She asked for this, hadn't he warned her that she would be owned by him? Hadn't he cautioned her to think clearly about her decision? It would be pointless now to argue something so trivial.

The room was not large by any means but it was far better than sharing a room with four other hormonal witches. A queen sized bed with deep green silk sheets centered the room, dove gray walls surrounded her, and an ebony stained dresser, desk, and nightstand decorated three corners. There was a small personal bathroom attached with a glass door shower and impressive vanity. Hermione pouted slightly, it seemed bubble baths were out of the question.

Opening the top drawer to her dresser, she found her clothes had been tucked away already, and her school books had been laid out on the desk. She placed her schoolbag on the leather chair and grinned, her own desk.

A deep chuckle startled her from her thoughts, "Only Hermione Granger would be smiling about a desk and coursework."

He was leaning against her door frame, arms crossed and watching her with a sideways smirk. The casual manner in which he held himself made her blush. She had never seen him so at ease but she supposed despite her living there, these were still _his_ rooms.

"It will be a breath of fresh air not to have to fight for a desk in the common rooms, or be surrounded by the vapid inane chatter of gossipy roommates," she said still grinning softly.

He nodded once, "Understandable. Now," his look turned dark, back into the toxic sludge she found herself completely enamored by, "In our common area you will not lounge in your school robes. Change immediately after classes. Do so now and join me when you are ready."

Surprisingly, he shut the door behind him as he left, leaving her to change in privacy. Regardless of his casual behavior, Hermione felt her stomach summersault. What should she wear? What was he planning? Slightly panicked, she began rifling through her clothes that had been so neatly tucked away. Jeans? No, far too relaxed. Skirt? No, far too much like her uniform which he apparently did not want to be reminded. Dress? Too fancy! Ah!

The navy blue loose fitted slacks she had bought on vacation in Paris would do nicely. They flared out at her ankles slightly and swished as she walked, topped with a white button up blouse. Staring at herself in the mirror, she frowned slightly. She popped open the top 2 buttons and flared out the collar slightly, showing off a bit of cleavage.

Instantly as she walked out of the room, she regretted it. His hungry eyes followed her, more cat like than serpentine as she took the same spot she had last night, across from him. His attentions were equally exciting and terrifying. One moment she wished he'd notice her but once the intensity of his gaze was caught onto her, anxiety riddled her brain.

He seemed to have caught on, "Relax Granger, today I simply wish to talk."

A glass of whiskey was held to her in offering, and she took it graciously. The drink equally burned her throat and soothed her frayed nerves. His eyes had not left her, watching, waiting, calculating, and no doubt anticipating the best time to strike.

"There are questions I wish to ask you, questions I will need open and honest answers to. Likewise I will allow you to ask a few of your own, with the understanding that I may not answer them."

Hermione nodded, noticing for the first time the faint pink scars along his neck. Usually his high collared frock hid the spots from view, but here, in a black button up not fully fastened, she could see the puckered skin and off-color patches of flesh. Inexplicably she had the urge to run her tongue along it, to feel every ridge and taste him, soothe him.

He cleared his throat, ripping her gaze away and back into his eyes, "I will know if you are lying, Hermione." Her name rolled from his tongue so sensually that she had to cross her legs to ease the throb she felt below. "Firstly, what were you doing whilst the school was being rebuilt?"

Letting out a breath she hadn't realized she'd been holding, she said, "Well, after finding my parents in Australia, and with the help of a few Healers from the Janus Thickey ward at St. Mungos…"

A frown furrowed his brow, "Why did you need assistance from magical healers?"

Hermione swallowed hard, guilt niggling her as it always did as she thought about her parents, "I … well I obliviated them and relocated them before leaving with Harry."

His eyebrows shot up in surprise, "That was incredibly stupid and rash of you. You may be a Gryffindor afterall."

Furious, she glared at him, but noticed his eyes held none of the derision she expected, "I needed them to be safe, I couldn't risk…"

She squeezed her eyes closed, remembering the fear that had synched her heart whenever she had thought about leaving her parents so unprotected. When she opened them again, his eyes were softer. "We did what was necessary. You are lucky their memories were able to be returned without issue."

Hermione winced, "Mostly without issue, sometimes they revert to their alternate personalities, but it usually passes in an hour or two."

"Then the obliviate was powerful. Lockhart would be proud," he sneered without vehemence.

Hermione giggled and stopped suddenly. Profe- _Master_ Snape had made a joke. The boys would never believe it. "Yes, well, after that I travelled with them until the school was ready. I spent a fair bit of the earnings from that Order of Merlin, but it was worth it."

"Did you travel anywhere you could have contracted diseases?" he asked.

Hermione rolled her eyes, "I travelled MANY places Professor, but I have been given a clean bill of health."

She did not expect it when his hand fisted in her curls and dragged her once again to her knees in front of him. The thumping in her chest nearly beat through her shirt as his dark eyes captured hers, "If you ever roll your eyes at me again, you will regret it. First discretions get you a warning, but I will not repeat myself. Understood?"

Hermione nodded, unable to say a word, unable to look away. The pain in her head lessened as he eased his grasp but did not let her up. She stayed on her knees in front of him, and somehow this made her clit hum in approval. It was aggravating how easily she was aroused by him, especially when he treated her so condescendingly.

"When I ask a question, the correct response is Yes Master, or No Master," he added with a pointed look.

"Yes Master," she said softly. The dark eyes holding hers flashed with hunger, and she swore he shifted in his seat, a bulge outlining the front of his slacks.

"Now," he purred, "You are certain you didn't catch any wizarding or muggle STD's on your excursions?"

Anger boiled within her, but she bit her tongue to hold back the fiery retort, "Yes Master, I have been checked by BOTH types of doctors."

The dark wizard clucked disapprovingly, "My, my, what were you up to while with your parents?"

Crimson blossomed in her cheeks, the heat travelling down her neck. He whispered an incantation and the rest of the buttons on her shirt popped open, revealing her skin toned bra. She squeaked in protest as he leered at her exposed form, "If that is the best you have I might insist on taking you to get some new lingerie as well as apprentice robes."

Humiliation seared her cheeks and she crossed her arms, but another spoken spell had her wrists pulled back and bound together. "Tsk tsk, none of that now," he said with a chuckle. "Since we are on the subject, how many partners have you had, Miss. Granger?"

A tug on her hair when she delayed her response made her whimper, "Five," she hissed through clenched teeth. She could feel the tears welling in her eyes already, the humiliation stinging far more than the pain and yet still she could feel the slickness between her thighs lubricating her.

"And who were they?" he drawled, as if coaxing answers from a wayward child.

"Harry… Ron… Viktor… A man I met in Australia… and another I met in Brazil," she whispered, each name accompanied by a flash of the nights shared. Guilt tore through her as she recalled her first night with Harry.

Without warning he tossed her from him. Unable to break her fall she landed hard, her shoulder and cheek absorbing much of the impact. She cried out and then gasped as she felt his weight settle on her, something hard pressing into her stomach as he sneered down at her.

"Of course Potter," he hissed angrily, using his wand to slice open her bra and paw her newly exposed breast roughly. She whimpered, pain and pleasure shooting straight to her core, making her already needy clit throb for attention. "Was he your first?"

Hermione nodded, wincing when he pulled her nipple tautly at her response, "Yes, Master!" The erection pressing into her stomach pulsed at her words.

"When?"

Another whimper was torn from her as he slipped his hand down the front of her pants, deft fingers immediately finding her swollen clit, "On the run," she gasped when he pinched her, "When Ron left, it just … happened."

His strumming sent jolts of pleasure to her brain, the sheer intensity making her vision spotty. "You filthy little girl," he hissed in her ear. "Spreading your legs for him the moment you could, once his girlfriend and best friend were out of the way." His words fed her guilt while his fingers spurned her to new pleasures as they slipped inside of her. "How many times Hermione?" his voice was like silk, rubbing itself against her as the passion built inside of her, brighter and brighter it shone.

"Twice," she gasped as his thumb rubbed her furiously and his fingers pumped relentlessly. "Second time… in the Forest of Dean."

His hands stilled and she whimpered loudly, gyrating her hips upwards, desperate for the release that was just out of reach. If he would just move! Slowly his thumb continued its slow circling, "So you mean to tell me, while I was placing the sword in that god forsaken lake, little miss know it all was getting fucked?"

Hermione moaned, the profanity urging another coating of fluid from her, "Yes Master!"

Dark eyes bore into hers, rifling through her thoughts and pulling up the memory of Harry laboring above her. Sweet, loving Harry, who had made her feel so good but couldn't get her to finish despite his best efforts.

Snape smirked and pulled out of the memory, redoubling his efforts on her, "And that night Weasley returned, did he not?"

"Yes Master!"

He leaned down, voice in her ear, labored breath lapping her skin, "And did you fuck him then? Did you take them both? Let them each use your cunt, or maybe your mouth? I bet you've thought about it haven't you, Hermione?"

Before she could articulate a response, light and pleasure exploded inside of her, shaking her entire being as she cried out and clenched down on his fingers. The pleasure rolled throughout her body, lingering far longer than she was used to until she fell limp.

Her body shook with slight tremors, lower abdomen pulsing with residual shocks. The pain shortly returned; her shoulder and cheek throbbing from when he had thrust her down, arms sore from being tied and leaned down on with her own and his weight.

Gently he pulled his fingers from her, muttering a quick cleansing charm and a _finite_ to unbind her wrists. Despite, having the freedom to move, Hermione lay there, panting and utterly knackered. It was better than she had imagined.

Her Master had already composed himself and sat in his chair, tumbler in hand as he smirked, self satisfied, down at her. Shakily she pulled her knees under her and stayed kneeled, not having the leg strength to stand just yet. Surely she looked a sight, hair frizzed out on end, lips swollen from biting down to keep relatively quiet, and breasts hanging out in the open.

"You are very responsive," he said thoughtfully, tapping the side of his glass. Hermione blushed hard, noticing his eyes lingering on her chest. "You've earned a few questions of your own."

It was as if her mind had deserted her. The only question she could manage was, "How many partners have you had?"

He snorted into his drink, "Far more than five. Twenty or so. And do not ask me to list them all."

Hermione looked down, wringing her hands, and softly asked, "Was one of them Bellatrix?"

The air felt heavy between them, thick with unshared stories and horrors. The past seemed to swallow them and rend their surroundings in a dark hue, even the fire seemed to have dulled at the mention of the long passed manic woman.

"No."

The anxiety clawing her throat dissipated with the finality of his tone. Pushing thoughts of the crazed bitch from her mind, she asked, "Have you had an apprentice before?"

Again he answered in the negative, "To think I'd have time between Order meetings, Deatheater meetings, and an apprentice is laughable."

"What about …." Hermione started with a flush.

He zeroed in on the coloring of her cheeks, "What?"

She cleared her throat and blushed again, "Have you …. You know … with other students?"

He smirked, "Are you asking if you're the first student I ever fucked Miss. Granger?"

His crass words sent a shiver through her, "Yes Master."

"No," he said, smirking down at her again as her eyes shot to his in surprise. "Do not look so shocked. There have been _many_ offers. Some I have partaken and some I've rejected. They were all of age if that puts your mind to rest."

Somehow this did not make her feel better. In fact she felt a little ruffled; she would have thought he had some code of honor that he stuck to. Although to be fair, he was just a man, and was a young man when he started teaching, perhaps no more than a few years older than the eldest girls. "Do I know any of them?"

And for the first time he did not answer, simply continued smirking at her, which drove her ire to the forefront. "So possessive little one," he said coyly. "I think that is enough for one night." He held up a hand as she opened her mouth to protest, "You will write your NEWT on Friday, and Saturday I will accompany you to Hogsmead to purchase acceptable robes."

Hermione scrambled to her feet as he rose and made his way to his rooms, "But Sir what about …" the word 'you' hung between them. The hand resting on the knob to his rooms tightened visibly and he did not look back at her in her disheveled state.

"Goodnight Granger," he said and disappeared into his rooms.

Hermione stood there stunned. After all the visions he had put into her head and the way he had brought her to orgasm tonight, and he still didn't want to use her? With her brow furrowed in confusion, she went to her rooms and prepared for her first night in her new rooms. When she finally fell asleep, her dreams were plagued by the dark wizard sleeping ten feet away.

...

 **Hey everyone! Things are finally starting to heat up, but whats holding Severus back? OH so excited for the next Chapter from our lovely dark wizards perspective. As always Read and Review!**


	6. Chapter 6

A loud bang startled the dark wizard from his morning paper. The little chit had slammed her bedroom door shut and was halfway across the room before he glanced up without so much as a greeting. Well someone was certainly in a mood. Severus thought she would've been rather chipper with the orgasm he had granted her the night before.

"If you break it Granger, I will vanish it," he drawled returning to his paper.

This halted the girl in her tracks, magic vibrating off of her and frizzing to the ends of her curls, "Yes, Master."

The words were laced with venom, and even he was having a hard time placing what he could've done to make her so volatile this early. He replayed the evening before, sure he had been rough with her, crass even but nothing that was out of character for him. If she thought that was enough to be this enraged about, then he needed to have quite the chat with the little minx.

She was near the portrait, double checking the bag slung around her shoulder. He caught sight of some purpling on her cheek and cursed himself inwardly, "Come here, Granger."

Her body went rigid at the sound of his voice, tension seizing her muscles tightly. Slowly she turned and walked to him, stopping just inches in front of him as she looked into his eyes defiantly. The blue and purple intermingled throughout her right cheek and along her temple. He stared down at her, unfazed by the discoloration and annoyed with her attempt at making him feel guilty.

"Are you a witch Miss. Granger?" he asked dangerously, holding her furious gaze with one of indifference.

Her jaw twitched, "Yes, Master."

"And as being a witch, you know there are spells you can use to cover such blemishes?"

"Yes, Master," she shot back viciously.

He grit his teeth in annoyance, this would not do. "Watch your tone Miss. Granger. If you know there are spells why haven't you used one?"

At this her cheeks flushed brilliantly trailing down the front of her uniform and he immediately recalled the sight of her breasts bared before him the night before. They were something to behold, perky, firm and just enough bounce to have his eyes and hands drawn to those rosy tips. She mumbled an answer that he didn't quite hear, "Speak clearly or don't speak at all."

"IM NOT GOOD AT GLAMOURS!" she shouted, tears of frustration welling in her eyes as she stared up at him, daring him to berate her.

He scoffed, "You mean there is something the great know-it-all of Gryffindor can't do?"

Her jaw clenched, the tears spilling forth and he almost felt sorry for her. Almost. Mostly he just felt bothered by the whole thing. Without another word he summoned the bruise paste from his quarters. The small jar flew into his hand and he unscrewed the lid, taking a generous measure and smearing it over her tears and into the wound.

She looked stunned, the tears stifled and her mouth hanging open in surprise. "There is _some_ advantage to residing with me Granger." Unable to speak she simply nodded as the paste faded the color rapidly from her cheek.

"Wash that off and come back here," he said gruffly.

He watched her return to her quarters and shook his head. Did she think he wanted the entire Great Hall to see that? How would it look her first night in his quarters and he had already 'abused' her? He thought about Potter and Weasley, indignant and outraged on behalf of their friend, and it put a twisted smile on his face. Perhaps he should have left the mark.

When she returned, the bruise had completely vanished and she was eyeing him uncertainly.

Severus rolled his eyes, "The next time you have a similar visible marking you will come to me for healing before venturing in public."

"I wasn't sure if you would want it healed," she said gripping her bag tighter to her.

He smirked at her darkly, thinking about all the bruises he wished to intricately lay across her backside, "Most bruises I will not. You will wear them with pride and be reminded of me each time you take a seat beside one of your little friends."

Ah that was what he wanted, those whiskey brown eyes turning smoky with lust as his voice wrapped her in fantasy, "Wouldn't that be fun Hermione?" He was closer to her now, his voice low beside her ear, a hand reaching up to scrape through her scalp. She whimpered softly as he continued, "How wet would you be? Would you leave a mark in your seat? Who would be the first to notice? Longbottom, perhaps?"

Her breathing halted as he nipped her earlobe softly, "I want you to love my bruises Hermione. One day, you will beg for them."

The first thing he noticed as he pulled back was her tight nipples trying to poke their way through her shirt. It drew his eyes to them and it took every ounce of will power not to drag her back into his bedroom and fuck her senseless. There would be time for that soon.

She pressed forward, eyes glazed with lust, hands gripping the front of his shirt as she pulled him down into a clumsy hard kiss. For a moment her soft lips moved against his, her tongue brushing against him for access. It had been a long time since he had been kissed. In fact there was only once… and the memory of it startled him so fiercely he shoved her back in anger.

The girl just barely caught herself on his desk and looked up in confusion.

"This is your first warning," he hissed, wiping his mouth in disgust, "Take such liberties again and I will make every covered inch of you black and blue."

The mark above his heart, her insignia, burned softly as she fled the room. Cursing again, he incinerated the newspaper abandoned on the sofa. How dare she? What in the world was going on in that over active mind of hers to think he would welcome such an act?

Taking a few breaths he buried the pain swelling to the forefront of his mind, ignoring the way her lips reminded him of _hers._ He pushed away how she tasted like spring and not like the cool harsh mint of winter. Or how her tongue had been imploring and daring while _hers_ had been languid and passive. Or how he rather enjoyed the feel of her lips and in the moment nearly opened his mouth to her invasive tongue.

Fury raged within him once more at her tenacity. That was _hers_. The one thing he had never given to another woman because he had always believed it belonged to _her_. Once more, another precious memory of Lily Evans tainted by Harry-bloody-Potter and one of his friends.

...

 **Hey! Sorry for the delay but were back on track now. Hope you liked this one... I know its short but I want to get some ground work in before moving on to the fun stuff ;) As always Read and Review PLEASE ... feedback helps my muse.**


	7. Chapter 7

_Stupid. Stupid. Stupid._ The mantra repeated itself in her mind even days after the incident had occurred. It wasn't as if she had intended to inspire such loathing from the surly man. Certainly a kiss was not something to be so enraged over. Hermione still had no idea what had possessed her to grab the man and dare to lay her lips on his. Several excuses circled her mind, each more confusing than the last.

Perhaps she was grateful for the bruise salve he had provided her. It had most definitely made her day easier. She had woken with her temple throbbing and a resounding headache, that alone had been enough to put her in a snit. Then glancing in the mirror and seeing she looked nearly as bad on the outside as she felt inside had stoked the ire into an inferno of rage. She looked all the part of broken house wife. It set her teeth on edge and made her desperate to flee is rooms. After a few glamours had weakly fizzled she gave up, not caring in the slightest who should see.

But then he had been kind and healed her with a tender touch she was not aware he was capable of. It had to be gratitude.

Or maybe it was the way his sinful voice coiled around her womanhood and stroked her fire with the practiced ease of a long time lover. Or the words themselves. Heat blossomed along her cheeks as she recalled the filthy words he had whispered in her ear. Thoughts that should not draw out such desire in her hummed in his tantalizing voice so close to her had made her body come alive under him. Despite the fact he had made her cum the night before she was ready for more in an instant.

The power of her lust for him confused her, which had made her reach out for more. Clearly it was just lust that addled her brain.

Lastly, and most frighteningly confusing of all, she had simply wanted to. His cupid's bow had called to her, enticing her with promises of delight. A mouth that could spew such hatred must certainly be able to wield an exuberant amount of passion as well. A tongue that dripped with venom and spite should surely duel with the power of such wickedness behind it.

And he had. For a brief moment his mouth moved against hers, as desperate and needy as her own. It was harsh, a clattering of teeth to start before the hand in her hair had tightened and pulled her back to control the kiss. It was brief. He had shoved her away and wiped his mouth as if it had just been attached to a flobberworm.

Humiliation burned her cheeks as she recalled the utter derision and hatred dripping from his words and eyes as he cast her away. Days later and it still hurt and embarrassed her just as severely.

Was she not pretty enough? If so then why did he accept her proposal? Why would he have started turning her on? Was kissing only allowed if he initiated it? A sense of sadness washed over her. Or would he never kiss her at all?

Hermione slammed the library book closed with a rather loud thud, startling Ms. Pince who gave her an icy glare. She had had enough of her morose thoughts. Just yesterday she had finished her Potion's NEWT and results would be in by end of day. It was Saturday early morning, the sun just barely rising over the black lake, and she would NOT be tormented by this anymore.

Master Snape had promised to take her into Hogsmead today to purchase everything she would need for her apprenticeship and some new robes since her uniform would simply not do. Although this was of course before he had begun resolutely ignoring her.

Since their tete a tete she had barely seen the man despite living in the same vicinity as him. He was always absent from their common area before she had even left her room and when she got in after studying, his bedroom door was firmly locked and warded. It simultaneously bristled her and fanned her humiliation hotter.

Quietly, and delicately since Pince was now eying her down menacingly, she tucked the potions reference books she was using to double check each and every answer she wrote in her exam away onto its shelf. If she wanted things relatively back to whatever was considered normal between them, she would need to make an effort.

Once she was in their common area, Snape's door still warded, she called for a house elf to bring some tea and the same biscuits she had seen him reach for at the staff table the other night. Within a few moments the elf, Ninny which really was a horrid name, returned with tea, biscuits, pumpkin juice, and an assortment of other pastries.

Just as Hermione was thanking the elf, Master Snape emerged from his quarters looking stunned for a moment to see her. He froze at his door, hands clasped behind his back as he surveyed the spread laid out on his coffee table. The only sound was a _pop,_ as the elf disappeared once more. His eyes darted between the tea tray and Hermione, sitting in what she now considered her seat.

Nervously, she cleared her throat, "I ordered some tea for us." Her voice sounded far too high and cheery.

His lips curled in a sneer, "Obviously." He made no move to take the seat opposite to her.

Blushing, she cast her eyes downward, "I thought perhaps I should … apologize." His face betrayed nothing, as if he didn't even know what she was referring to. "For the other day."

"And so you thought tea and the pleasure of your sparkling company should suffice?" he asked in a tone that suggested otherwise.

Her head snapped up to meet his eyes and she glared, "I was trying to be nice."

"Don't." The word dropped on her heavy. Anger and humiliation rose in her once again, flaming her cheeks. A glitter of some emotion flickered through his eyes before he crossed the room to her, towering over her seated form as he bent to sneer directly in her face.

"I am not your boyfriend Miss. Granger. I do not need you niceties, I do not need tea and biscuits and soft words and apologies. I am not your fool hardy friends who need to be coddled and have their ego stroked every time they feel wronged in some way."

Dark orbs flashed viciously at her and from up close she could see every ugly detail of his stupid face. Hermione knew it was petty, but she glared at him, picking out every flaw, real or imagined, that she could and repeated it in her mind with as much disdain as she imagined he held for her.

 _Crooked teeth._

"The only thing I need Miss. Granger…"

 _Pale skin._

"… is for you to do your work as an apprentice,… "

 _Age lines._

"... keep that overactive brain from spouting regurgitated facts,…"

Hermione grit her teeth. _Big ugly nose._

"… and to open up whatever orifice I fancy when desired," he finished with a sickening smirk. Outrage and indignation flared to the surface of her thoughts, this was NOT how she was to be treated. Before she could rise from her seat in a fury, his hand was on her shoulder, keeping her down.

Her eyes blazed into his, "There is no need to be so crude!"

Equally, his eyes blazed back into hers, nostrils flaring, "No? You seem to forget your place so quickly Miss. Granger, perhaps you are in need of a lesson." Standing up straight his already straining placket was directly in her line of vision. Before she could get out a word of protest his hand was fisted in her curls, "Open it."

She knew what he meant, her heart thundered with adrenaline but she made no move to undo his fly. A sharp slap accosted her cheek with his free hand and he looked down at her with a quirked brow, "Open. It."

Roughly, with tears stinging the back of her eyes, Hermione unbuttoned his pants and yanked the zipper down, revealing the navy blue of his undergarments with something decidedly hard underneath.

"Pull them down."

Without looking him in the eye, she tugged his pants down to ankles, leaving only the silky blue garments to cover his decency. The first thing she noticed was his toned legs and the dark hair covering them. This was the most she had ever seen the man undressed.

"Take it out," the command was gruff, his voice coated with lust.

Tears threatened to fall as she looked up into his normally stoic face to see a twisted leer boring into her. As the first tear fell, the _thing_ in front of her bobbed beneath the fabric. He wiped the tear with the pad of his thumb and licked it, a look of pure ecstasy crossing his features as he ground out, "Take it out, now."

A second and third tear joined the first as she hooked her thumbs over the waistband and pulled them down to his ankles as well.

There it was. In all its glory, straining and purple headed, veins throbbing with desire for her. Suddenly, she was not so worried about if she was pretty enough. His hand fisted the shaft hard, making the circumsized head bulge even further. It was bigger than average by an inch or two, and thick, so thick she wondered if her fingers could wrap around it. Decidedly not as Snape's hand barely could.

The hand in her curls brought her lips to the head but she did not open them. He didn't stop though, stroking the shaft as he rubbed the dripping precum over her face, on her cheeks and across her lips. More tears had fallen and he simply wiped them away with the head of his cock, the humiliation simply making her want to cry even more.

"This is why you are here Granger. This is my payment is it not?" he asked as he slapped his cock against her cheek. More tears. "Answer me."

"Yes…" she whispered. Another slap to her cheek. "Yes, Master," she corrected.

His prick continued its trail over her face, "Exactly. And only I decide when and how you will be used." A sharp tug of her hair forced her gaze to his furious one, "And never the other way around. Your desires mean nothing. Your lusts, your needs are secondary. If you cum, it is because I am in a generous mood."

The tears were constant now and she struggled not to hiccough. It was humiliating. It was embarrassing. And it was her own fault for signing up for this in the first place. She thought he was a decent man, a good noble man beneath his surly façade. But she was wrong. There was no warmth. He was cold as ice beneath his dark layers.

Suddenly, the hot trail across her cheek was gone and his pants were secured around his waist once more. Confused she looked up at him, sniffling through the remnant of her tears. His look was impassable, closed off and guarded with more security than Gringotts could ever hope to have.

"I hope this punishment serves as a reminder to know where you stand girl," he said definitively.

"Pu- punish –ishment?" she said through her sniffles, confused.

He summoned a tissue box to the room and thrust it into her hands, "Stop sniffling and wipe yourself dammit. Yes punishment. You wanted to be exonerated yes? Forgiven for your transgressions?"

She nodded dumbly.

He rolled his eyes, "You have it. You accepted your punishment with little fight and will no doubt THINK before you act on your lust again." He leaned down and grabbed a tissue to wipe the remaining tears from her eyes, so tenderly it nearly made a fresh wave burst from her, "I told you I was a bastard."

Without knowing how to respond she nodded making him chuckle softly, "Stop this now, clean your face and return so we can order a fresh round of tea for you and coffee for myself."

Still thrown completely off balance by an unknown switch being flipped, Hermione cautiously made her way to her rooms to wash her face and freshen up. Smears of his clear cum shined in the light, while her eyes were red rimmed and puffy. She looked quite a sight and she wondered how on earth he managed to be hard at all throughout it.

Once she was clear faced again, she rejoined him in the sitting room where a steaming tea had been placed in front of her chair. Gingerly, she took a seat, still trying to make sense of the interaction as he watched her over the rim of his cup.

Confusion still clouded her mind, "Sir?" He quirked an eyebrow. "Was I punished for kissing you?"

A frown marred his features, "Not precisely. You were punished for attempting to take control of our arrangement."

Hermione sipped her tea thoughtfully for a moment, "Then why wait until now?"

His eyes hardened and she feared she may be talking too much for her own good, "I was not planning on punishing you at all. But again today you attempted to gain control."

Indignation swelled within her, "I did not!"

"No?" he said with scornful look. "What would you call ambushing me in the early hours of morning with tea and biscuits."

"I was apologizing!"

"Yes, because all week I've been looking for you to apologize to me," he growled, slamming his mug on the table.

Hermione balked, "How would I know?! You've been avoiding me ever since like the plague!"

He gritted his teeth and closed his eyes tightly, now she knew she had gone too far, "Did it ever occur to you that I did not WISH to see you? You accosting me like this was the final straw of my resolve."

She opened her mouth to retort but he cut her off with a withering look.

"Know. Your. Place. That is the lesson you should take away from this punishment. The next time I will not be so soft handed with you."

Hermione fumed in her seat, staring at the tea in front of her like it had personally insulted her. Deep down she knew he was right. But it irked her so to think that her good intentions of apologizing were so rebuked.

His voice cut through her disdainful thoughts, "Don't be petulant, it is not a trait I desire in my submissive." Her eyes darted to his, his possessive words stirring something pleasant inside of her. "Your punishment is over and you are forgiven, have your tea."

For a brief moment she considered tossing the cup into the fireplace and storming out but that would definitely be considered petulant by anyone's standards.

"Do you have any questions about your exam?"

Hermione perked up at this, eager to go into detail about each and every one of her answers, barely noticing the smirk hidden behind the coffee mug.

...

 **HEY! So glad I was able to get this chapter up today :) It was a fun one to write and I'm looking forward to the next even more. Dont worry sexy times are a coming. PLEASE read and review. Your reviews inspire me to write more. xoxo**


	8. Chapter 8

Hogsmead was naturally bustling with an overactive crowd on Saturday afternoon. Small children tugged their mother's hands towards Honeydukes, while the harassed mothers either chastised them or gave in to their incessant pleadings. Each shop was bustling with witches and wizards alike all looking to finish their errands of the week.

Severus sneered as a young child whined in his mother's arms, to think people made the little sniveling beasts on purpose. All in all it had been a rather fine outing so far. Granger chattered on animatedly about one subject or another, looking far more relaxed than he had seen in the last few days. He offered little to the conversation but it did not seem to chafe her in the least.

Despite having been actively avoiding her, he had been keeping a close watch regardless. He noticed the dark circles under her eyes, the way she yawned far too frequently into her food, that is when she did decide to show up for meals at all. Studying for her NEWT had taken over every aspect of her life and he was grateful for the distraction from him.

He hadn't been ready to discuss the kiss. In fact he didn't think he'd ever be ready to discuss it and then she had been her overbearing self, trapping him to _apologize._ In his confusion and anger he had lashed out, humiliating her and reminding her of her place in his life. She was not his psychiatrist. She was not his friend and confident. She was not his _girlfriend_. Granger was his apprentice and a wet hole for him to sink himself into, nothing more.

Currently she was browsing the titles in the book shop he had brought her to. There were a number of texts he told her she must be read in if she wanted to do well in her advanced studies. Her eyes lit up as they entered the shop and she immediately dashed off on her own to collect what she needed and a few extra things no doubt.

After nearly an hour of his own perusing he grew irritated. Where was the little bint? Swooping through each aisle, it wasn't until he reached the abandoned dark arts section that he found her nose buried in a book, eyes wide and mouth moving as she silently read. _A beginner's guide to BDSM_ , he read on the front of the cover.

He smirked lasciviously. Casting a quick glance to the other patrons of the shop, a balding wizard in the self help section and the shop owner who was so decrepitly old it was a wonder he was still alive at the front counter, Severus sheathed the two of them in a notice-me-not charm and muffliato. So engrossed she was in her book that she did not even feel the magic encase them.

Slithering up behind her, he noticed the page she was so intently reading had a woman tied with her legs spread, a ring gag fastened to her lips, and a crop was coming down on her exposed clit while her Dominant's cock made use of her open mouth.

"My… what an interesting find…" he hissed.

Granger squealed, nearly dropping the book, and turned to him in a flash, pupils blown wide with desire and breathing slightly shallow, "S-sir… I didn't see you."

He plucked the book from her and flipped through it with a bored expression, but his pants were growing tighter, each photo something he could easily envision her in. "I don't believe this is one I had assigned to you," he drawled, biting back a smirk as her cheeks flushed.

"No … I know … But I thought…" she looked down, stumbling through her words , "It would be good to know… or get an idea of what you'll be asking of me," she finished while tugging the hem of her skirt.

If she wanted a taste he would be more than happy to provide, he thought as his cock hardened further. She was aroused, even without noticing how wide her pupils had been, she was fidgeting relentlessly and he could smell her. It was clouding everything else.

"You would like an idea of what we will do?" he walked her backwards into the furthest shelf, walking slowly as she mimicked his every move, "Was what I showed you in class not enough?"

Her eyes glazed over as the flashes of images returned to her. He watched as she remembered and swallowed hard, "I needed something more … detailed. Analytical."

"Ah," he said with a smirk, pressing his body against her, trapping her effectively, "So this is merely for … academic curiosity." She nodded vigorously, breathing harder as he dipped his head and nipped her earlobe lightly, "Then tell me, Hermione, why are you so wet that I can smell you?"

A startled moan escaped her throat as he immediately groped her covered pussy. As he suspected, she had nearly soaked her panties reading that particular book, and it was now coating his two fingers as he shoved her panties roughly aside, sliding them into her.

"What a filthy slut I own, getting aroused in public to such naughty images," he whispered directly in her ear. He saw the way she bit her lip, holding back the noises he knew she wanted to release. Her eyes darted behind him, to the end of the aisle, and he smirked, "Are you afraid someone will see what a whore you are?"

Desperately her eyes flicked to his as he added his thumb to circle her clit. "Please Sir," she whispered.

The whimper sent a delicious throb to his aching cock and he wondered just how far he wanted to take this. "Please what? Please stop? Harder?" he asked and increased his tempo, making her eyes roll and nearly bite her lip hard enough to break skin. He ground his cock against her hip, and she did gasp aloud, "Please fuck you against the shelves? You'll need to be more specific, Hermione."

Panting hard, her eyes flashed something dark that lured his own to the surface. "Please… let me cum," she whispered, cheeks flushed in desire or embarrassment, he wasn't sure.

A moment passed where lust overrode higher brain function and he was not able to respond. Willingly and without prompt she had handed the reins to him, asking for permission to cum. He growled low in his throat, "You can cum right here and now but only if you shout it out Hermione, hold nothing back."

For a moment she looked confused, glancing around again in worry before he dropped to his knees and took her clit between his lips. He sucked hard, flicking the nub with his tongue rapidly, tasting her sweet juices gush around him in shock.

Her hands gripped the shelf behind her, leaving small crescent indentations and scuffing in their wake. Already his knees ached from the hard stone floor, but he refused to give in until she bucked and screamed. Her body twitched, her panting nearly obscene as his tongue worked her into a frenzy.

Just as he felt she was on the edge, he plunged his fingers back into her and pumped her furiously. A startled cry was torn from her, turning into a piercing shriek as her pussy gripped his fingers like a vice and her clit pulsed under his tongue.

It was over quick and she covered her mouth with a panicked expression, "Oh god, oh god," she said, still panting hard from her orgasm. Severus smirked and rose, savouring the taste of her on his lips. She was beyond disheveled, hair mused, skirt rumpled, and the stench of sex clung to them both.

"Very good, Granger," he said with a leer. This was a sight he could get used to, her cheeks flushed, a slight tremor in her legs, and the taste of her cunt still lingering on him. "Give me your panties," he said holding out his hand.

Her back stiffened, staring up at him with a shocked and indignant expression.

"You have just ridden my fingers and tongue until you screamed out in orgasm in a public place, do not look so mollified now. I will not ask you again," he kept his hand out stretched and a scowl in place.

With a determined look she yanked the white cotton panties down and placed them gingerly in his hand. They were soaked and smelled of her. It took every ounce of his will power not to bury his nose in them or stuff them in his pocket for a wank later. But she had wanted a taste.

Mumbling a transfiguration spell, he transformed them into a book cover and replaced it over the book she had been reading. It looked innocuous enough, but he hadn't performed the spell well enough, on purpose, so that her scent still lingered and the cover seemed slightly damp. He stuffed the old cover in a shelf and smirked down at her curious gaze.

"I believe you should go purchase your books Miss. Granger, "he said.

She stooped to retrieve the other books she had collected and attempted to walk past him.

He tsked with a knowing smirk, "Don't forget this one." He handed her the book wrapped in her own panties.

It was comical how her eyes nearly bugged out of her head in disbelief and embarrassment, "Sir, you couldn't possibly expect…"

His gaze hardened, "I expect it, so it will be done."

Her jaw tensed, "He will notice!"

"The man is so old he wouldn't notice a werewolf transformation in here," he drawled, still holding the book to her.

"What if there's a detection charm and they change back!" she hissed furiously.

"This is the cost of the orgasm I provided you, accept it or accept punishment later for your disobedience," he hurled back and slammed the book on top of the pile of others in her hands. She buckled slightly under the force and huffed in annoyance.

Without another word he saw her spine straighten, nose in the air as she turned and purposefully strode from the aisle and towards the front counter. No customer, or store owner was wise to their antics, all going about their day as if they hadn't heard a woman scream out in orgasm, which they hadn't.

Her steps slowed and she turned, giving him a peculiar look. He tapped his wand pointedly and comprehension immediately dawned on her face. Another glance around and her shoulders dropped in relief. Silly girl, did she actually think he would risk people hearing her?

When she reached the front counter he stood next to her looking bored. The man had more white hair sprouting from his ears than he did on his head, his glasses made his eyes look magnified twice over, and he had a whistle when he spoke from a few missing teeth.

"This all young Miss?" he said reaching for the pile in her hands with gnarled fingers.

Granger forced an overly friendly smile, "Yes, Sir." She had slipped the BDSM book to the bottom of the pile and grew more agitated as each book was glanced over.

"Ah yes, Pilver's Potions Theories, Herbs Most Handy," he paused and gazed at her with almost grandfatherly affection, "Someone is becoming a potions Mistress if I'm not mistaken."

She flushed a deep red and mumbled some affirmative. Severus was nearly giddy with anticipation, if he felt such things as giddiness. No this was more a lustful anticipation to see the moment the old man saw Granger for what she was: a woman. The old man probably hadn't thought of a woman in that sense for quite some time and reality was about to douse icy water on his apprentice and light a fire in the shop clerk.

"The Anatomy of Magical Creatures, Potent Potables and ah…"the old man paused at the last book. A trembling hand brought it closer to his comically magnified eyes as he read the title twice over, before looking over to the young girl who had brought it to him, "Was this the title you meant to pick up?"

Severus fought back the smirk lilting the corners of his lips dangerously as his apprentice squirmed beside him. She was looking past the man to the wall behind him, nodding minutely in response.

The clerk swallowed hard, shifting the book from hand to hand as if he were uncomfortable, and then with a confused look down, brought the book to his nose and sniffed it.

If it were possible to burst from embarrassment, surely the girl next to him would have done so in a spectacular way. He could practically feel the heat emanating from her in waves.

"Sorry Miss, this one seems to be a touch water damaged, smells a little funny too, I'll get you a fresh one," he said tucking the one he had under his desk and shuffling to the shelves to bring another.

He was mistaken; NOW surely she would expire from embarrassment. Oh how sweet it was to watch her cheeks burn, and if she would turn to look at him he knew those unshed tears would be just beneath the surface. His cock pressed painfully into his zipper and he winced slightly. Soon he would need to take the girl, fuck her to his cock's content before it snapped off. The games were fun, but there was always time for games in the future.

The old man reappeared a moment later with a new book in hand, "and last _A Beginners Guide to … to BDSM_ ," he stumbled over the title with a faint blush. The look in his eyes was no longer filled with an old man's affections but rather a curious and penetrating leer. Severus smirked knowing her humiliation complete. "That'll be 260 galleons, 7 sickles, and 3 knuts."

Before the girl could reach for her purse, Severus gave the man a satchel with galleons, "This should cover all expenses for the both of us."

Both the clerk and Granger looked up at him with astonishment. Granger's eyes were still glistening but now she looked as confused as a troll in a tea shop. Severus shrunk their books and placed them in the girl's purse, leaving the shop without waiting to see if she followed.

She did, bursting from the shop and chasing after him in the crowd, "Wait!" she called. "What was that about?" she asked clinging to the purse and the books she had inside.

"Apprentices do not get paid, so I will cover any expenses you may have," he said matter-of-factly. Didn't the girl read her contract? There was no mention of pay anywhere in it. Really, he thought she was brilliant.

He paused in his strides, nearly causing her to collide into him. Brilliant? Where did that nonsense come from? Sure, she was less dunderheaded than the average student but that wasn't saying much.

"All the books I need you'll buy for me?" she said with far too cheery a voice.

He sneered down at her, "Do not get so bold, I have a personal library, you have the Hogwarts library, there will be little need to purchase else after today."

Still the girl hurried along merrily by his side, no doubt excited to start her perusal of all the books she had gotten. Suddenly her face went white and she jerked him into a nearby alcove, "Oh God… Sir?"

He smirked, finally, "Yes, Miss. Granger?"

Her horrified eyes looked up to him, "What is going to happen when that spell wears off?"

Leaning down with a leer, he said, "I believe that kindly old man is going to find your panties wrapped around one of his books." Looking into her chestnut eyes he could see the mortification bloom before him. It sickened him how hard he became watching the shame build inside of her even though he had commanded her to do those things. But it wasn't enough for her to be embarrassed; he wanted her to love the degradation he afforded her.

"What do you think he'll do when he sees them? Toss them away in disgust? Hide them in his pocket?"  
A chill broke out on her skin and he could see the gooseflesh rise. "Do you think he will sniff them Hermione? Jerk off into them? Stroke his wrinkled old cock with them while thinking of the naughty young woman who entered his shop for a BDSM book and left behind her panties?"

Despite the visual being less than savory he sensed her breathing becoming shallow, her eyes darkening with lust up at him. He saw her internal struggle, wondering why his words had such an effect on her. It wasn't about the visual … it was about the perversion behind it. It fueled his fires and seeing how it affected her similarly only made him want to fuck her more.

"Do you think he would…" she started to say softly and he snorted.

"The moment he read that title you became something to lust after," he said decisively, "A pretty young woman entered his shop and left her defiled panties behind on purpose, wrapped around a book about BDSM. If that doesn't wake the man's ancient cock then nothing will."

Pretty? What was wrong with him today? She snorted out an amused laugh and it felt far better than it should have. He wanted her to cry not laugh. But when he looked into her eyes a sliver of mirth danced along her embarrassment and he found himself hard again.

This on and off again hard on was driving him mad, he needed to cum. One last stop and he could get them back to Hogwart's. Leaving the alcove without a further word, she followed along behind. "Where are we going now, Sir?"

He smirked over his shoulder to her, "To round out your wardrobe of course."

...

 **Guys ... I loved writing this chapter and I am SO eager for more writing ... next chapter is going to be another fun one. Let me know how you all are enjoying it so far PLEASE. Read and review! Reviews inspire me to write faster!**


	9. Chapter 9

"Ouch!" Hermione yelped as her hair was caught in the zipper as it was spelled up along her spine. The short pudgy woman charming a set of robes on her muttered an apology before continuing with a set of transfiguration spells to fit the garment better to her.

The changing room was larger than it appeared on the outside with a raised platform, three paneled mirror and a set of arm chairs. Master Snape was currently sitting in one, rapt with attention as the woman assisted her, flustered with the presence of a male in the room.

"Those sleeves will not do. She is a Potions apprentice," he snapped rather waspishly.

Gertrude, the shopkeeper, tossed aside a graying curl and glared at him, "And just what does that have to do with…"

Hermione could nearly hear him grit his teeth, "She will be near open flames and volatile ingredients. What do YOU think will happen with all that fabric flapping around?"

The older woman pursed her lips in annoyance looking as though she were biting back a rather scathing retort before flicking her wand at Hermione. The sleeves were immediately shrunken and clung to her like a second skin.

In the mirror Hermione appraised the garbs. They were form fitting, hugging her waist before hanging loosely to her ankles. There was a slot for her wand by her hip that made it appear invisible and two deep pockets on either side. The long sleeves covered her scar, something she was immensely grateful for as Snape's eyes had immediately been drawn to it as she undressed.

Gertrude, who was now glaring daggers into the dark man, had also stared at it, casting Hermione a pitying glance which made her stomach turn. She _hated_ that look. That sympathetic, empathetic tilt of the head as if they could possibly know what she had been through, the pain that had taken over every nerve in her body as she was held under crucio, or the intimate breath of that crazed bitch caressing her skin as she carved each letter slowly into her arm.

Shaking the memory away before she had a panic attack in the middle of the change room, she smoothed her hands down the front of the garment, "I like this, a couple in different colours would be nice."

Snape nodded, "They are acceptable now."

The woman huffed slightly before waving her wand and changing the robes to a new colour with each wave. Hermione picked out two, a deep merlot with gold embellishments to which Snape had muttered something about Gryffindors and sentimentality, and a deep navy blue accented with silver.

"We should also get another set, for varieties sake," he drawled pointedly to the shop keeper.

Without a word she left, no doubt grateful to get away from the acerbic wizard. Hermione was eyeing her reflection critically when she caught his gaze in the mirror. It was the look she had come to associate with his lust, eyes dark and blazing with mischief, hungry and desirous, as if she were some tasty morsel he was about to devour.

Heat pooled in her belly despite the recent orgasm she had received from his tongue. Merlin, his tongue had been between her legs! Professor Snape had flicked that wicked tongue and lashed her to a reverberating orgasm that left her nearly breathless. She blushed hard and averted her eyes from him as she felt the heat of his leer through the layers of clothing.

Gertrude bustled back in with a few different styles, all with fitted sleeves, and immediately Hermione's eye was drawn to one. It was fitted, a row of buttons down the front, so like the dark wizard's behind her that she couldn't help but want to try it on.

Once it was on, Hermione knew she would get them. She felt a rush of power run through as she took her imposing figure. The stark contrast of black against her pale skin, the innumerable amount of buttons trailing down the bodice, and the pointed sleeves all made her look like a female Severus Snape. It was terrifying and exhilarating.

A chuckle rose from behind her, turning into a deep laugh as she turned to him with her hands on her hips, "Just what is so funny?"

He wiped a mirthful tear from his eye, "I am just imagining Potter's face when he sees you dressed like this." Another deep chuckle sent a bolt of pleasure through her.

Hermione sniffed and turned away, hiding the red tint to her cheeks from his view, "Well I think they look good, and I want them in black and a deep forest green." He laughed again, the sound so foreign to her that it made her heart flutter something fierce. Even the insignia on her lower back tingled sensually against her skin.

"Madam," Snape addressed Gertrude, "Add those to the other two, but make the buttons on the green one silver."

Hermione opened her mouth to protest but Snape held up a hand, his eyes still filled with playfulness; did he even have a playful side? "It'll be worth the purchase to see Weasley's face turn nearly just as green."

Despite the fact Ron was one of her dearest friends she couldn't help the twitch of her lips as the vision of his face in abject horror flitted across her mind. Before Gertrude could leave Snape called to her once more, "Also, bring back some of your best lingerie, matching sets, at least a dozen."

The older woman shot him a scandalized look before looking to Hermione for confirmation. She looked away, flushing scarlet. When the witch had left, Severus came to her, circling her with a half smirk lingering on his lips, "You do look rather intimidating."

Hermione laughed lightly in relief, "Yes, well, I don't know how intimidating I'll be spending ten minutes every morning struggling with these buttons, I don't know how you do it."

He cocked his head to the side slightly, the playfulness gone and the lust returning again, dark and all encompassing as it sucked her in. She felt the tip of his wand press to the high collar as he muttered, " _Novis simul,_ " while dragging the tip down the row.

Each button popped off with ease as his wand pattered down the column, revealing her to him. Her skin was on fire, he was so close that she could feel his emanating heat. She looked up to him and saw the fire behind his gaze, the one that verified that he was well and truly alive unlike the dull coals she had witnessed them turn to in the Shrieking Shack.

Again his lips called to her, a sirens song that caused a stutter in her chest as she ached to pull him to her. But before she could do something foolish Gertrude reentered the room with over a dozen different pieces of bras, panties and more.

The spell broke and he took a step back from her, "We will not be in need of your assistance in this matter," he said to the plump woman.

When she had left, Snape locked and warded the changing room door with a lazy flick of his wand. He stared at her, eyes lidded with desire, relaxed as she had ever seen him. "Go on."

Hermione pulled out her wand to automatically change but the sound of his patronizing tsk tsk halted her action, "No magic pet, change for me."

Blushing brilliantly, Hermione took off the "Severus" robes. Her plain bra paled in comparison to the others that were spread out before her and quickly she picked out the lacey navy blue ensemble. It looked, well, sexy. Their eyes caught in the mirror again and she saw his hand groping the front of his trousers, slowly tugging and rubbing as he looked over her. His reactions to her filled her with power, with a desire to see how far he would go.

The next two items she slid on slowly, lasciviously. Each piece was a flimsy bit of cloth, leaving little to the imagination but accentuating all the best parts of her body. One piece was a full fishnet bodysuit that left her nipples exposed and had a slit between her legs for easy access. That particular piece had Snape pulling himself from his trousers, stroking his thick erection openly as his eyes stayed glued to her.

The sight of him masturbating left her dizzy. Lust clouded her mind, her vision blurred with the intensity of it all, as she tried on the next pieces. A snow white teddy, a black leather corset that he tightened with his wand, making him growl in appreciation as his hand sped up, a green silk robe with black lace back.

By that last item he was panting, his hand nearly a blur on his straining erection, "Come," he ground out between clenched teeth.

She was about to take a step forward but paused, her mind lighting up like a thousand watt bulb. With a seductive smile she sunk to her knees, crawling slowly to him as he watched her, his hand clenching his cock in a vice like grip as he let out a moan.

Without warning he gripped her hair and forced his cock as far down her throat as he could manage. She gagged, taken by surprise, before composing herself and relaxing her throat. His hand was fisted in her hair roughly as he guided her up and down and thrusted in time. Each growl, every moan shot straight to her core, his mark on her body humming with pleasure and feeling like a whole new erogenous zone.

Suddenly he pulled her back, his hand immediately fisting his pulsing erection as he shot his cum across her bared breasts, some of it landing on the green silk. He groaned softly as he milked the last drops from himself, hissing in pleasure as she then leaned forward to lick them from the tip.

He was salty and bitter and Hermione had never tasted anything as heady as him. She wanted more, she wanted him inside of her, she wanted to be tied up and used and anything else he wanted so long as she had this power over him.

She watched him, his eyes closed, hand that was once fisting her hair now loose and stroking her scalp tenderly, his breathing slowing back to normal and his member softening. Then he was watching her, his eyes dragging over her exposed form, resting to where his cum had splattered all over her chest.

He leaned forward, rubbing his cum into her skin, over her breasts, tugging the nipples until she winced, and into her stomach, "Keep that there until you shower in the morning, I want my mark on you."

His possessiveness flushed her skin. This side of him intrigued her to the point where she was nearly panting with desire. She felt like a dog in heat. Sure her previous experiences had been good but none of them made her feel like this. She felt she might go insane.

Snape tucked himself away and ushered her to dress while he purchased all of the outfits even though there were a few she hadn't even tried. When she pointed this out he had said, "I'm sure we'll enjoy another modeling sessions at Hogwarts."

Another three hundred galleons later they were making their way back to school in the crisp fall evening. He was silent, keeping up a grueling pace that her short legs could barely keep up with without speeding forward every few steps.

What she wouldn't give to be a fly in his mind, to know exactly how he was feeling, what he was thinking. Her two attempts at conversation had been met with a terse responses and she stopped trying.

When they entered the main gates, Harry and Ron were already there, both with eager faces.

"MIONE! FINALLY!" they both exclaimed as Ron pulled her into his side with an arm slung on her shoulder.

"McGonagall-"

"-come and get you-"

"-weren't in the school-"

Hermione laughed, "Ok one at a time please!"

Harry and Ron looked at each other with stupid grins, "Your NEWT score is in."

She paled, her breathing already tightening, "In? Now?"

They nodded in unison and before anyone could say another word, she bolted from all three men, running as fast as her legs could carry her to the headmistress's office.

...

 **Hey everyone! Another super fun chapter for me to write and a bit of stress relief for our good old Potions Master. The next few chapters should be exciting as well. How did Hermione do on her NEWTS guys? As always PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE review (even though the review count is at 69 heh) Your reviews make it worth while**


	10. Chapter 10

A glowing 10:07pm shimmered in the cool dungeon air and Severus slashed it with a sneer. Where was the girl? It had been over five hours since she had fled and left him alone with those two simpering fools.

He loathed Potter even more now than he did before the war had ended. The twit had often come to visit him in St. Mungos as he was recovering, looking to make some sort of peace with the man. Severus had quickly knocked that idea out of young Gryffindor's head with a few hurled insults and a tossed bed pan.

 _Potter._ He was still an arrogant little shite, strutting around the school while nearly everyone who passed him patted his shoulder or gawked in awe. It was enough to make him sick. Not to mention he was still the offspring of the boy who had made his life hell and the woman he loved.

His gut twisted as the image of Lily sprung forth. Those green eyes mocked him through James Potter's face day in and day out. And now those eyes knew. They knew he had loved Lily and they looked upon him with pity when the boy thought he was unaware.

Growling, Severus cast another tempus, noting that another ten minutes had gone by. WHERE was she? Surely Minerva wouldn't have kept the girl so long without sending word.

 _She's with Potter._ He gritted his teeth in annoyance. Of course she was, what other explanation could there be? Yet another woman in his life swayed by a Potter; had even lost her virginity to him. Just like Lily. Fire built in his chest as he imagined both the brunette and the redhead tussling with each Potter alike. Fuck life and its cruel sense of irony when it came to him.

Just as he was about to send his patronus to Minerva to find out where the hell Granger was, the portrait to his rooms swung open and she walked in, a large smile on her face. Oblivious to him, she closed the portrait and started to her rooms.

"Where have you been?"

The witch nearly jumped out of her skin and spun to face him in a defensive dueling stance, wand out and aimed at his chest. When her frenzied eyes locked on his, she let out a breath, "Sir! You really shouldn't skulk around in the dark like that!"

He narrowed his eyes, "These are my rooms Miss. Granger and I'll reside in them however I wish."

"Well then don't get too upset if I let off a curse," she said with a smile and light shrug.

He sneered, "I'd like to see you try Granger. Now WHERE have you been?"

The girl's smile faltered and something tightened in his chest. She looked hurt and for some odd reason it echoed within him. Mentally shaking the thought away he raised an eyebrow as he waited for an explanation.

"I… I was in the common room with Harry and Ron."

The fire roared back to life and it took an effort to rein his anger in. _Bloody Potter._ "Doing what?"

She looked down and wrung her fingers nervously. It was almost enough to make him take pity on her and just send her to her rooms for the evening. Almost.

"We were celebrating."

Severus rolled his eyes and scoffed, "As if you didn't already know you had managed to scrape out an Outstanding. A celebration indeed."

Her eyes flashed and she jutted out her chin defiantly, "I didn't manage to _scrape_ an Outstanding. I got the only perfect score known to Hogwarts."

Severus was stunned into silence. The knowledge that his student, his apprentice had bested him on her NEWTS, was not something he had expected. For a moment he was impressed, he felt a fondness creep into his blood that he found difficult to put into words. He was proud of her.

He cleared his throat to break their abrupt pause in conversation, "I suppose your regurgitation of facts was bound to be useful."

He watched as her eyes lost their fire, her pride taking a crippling blow at his nonchalance and instead of feeling vindicated he felt like a complete arse. Tears shimmered in her eyes and in his embarrassment of feeling something other than disdain or arousal he sneered, "In any case, it is well past curfew. Do you think yourself above the rules Miss. Granger?"

She shook her head and he grasped her chin forcefully, locking his eyes to hers. The start of tears trickled down her cheeks and his manhood throbbed in appreciation of how pretty she looked when she cried. Much better. "This is the second time I am correcting you for not using your words when responding. You will take five lashes from my belt and another from my hand for every minute you were passed curfew."

Twenty-five swats ought to bring the girl to heel. He had no intention of leaving any marks just enough to keep her aware of his annoyance, "Lift your skirt and bend over the edge of the couch."

Roughly she pulled her chin from his grasp and placed herself over the edge, flipping her skirt curtly. Rebellion was etched into her stance. Her face was turned from him but he could feel her glare, her legs were pressed tightly together, and every muscle was taught with frustration and anger. He was going to enjoy this.

The clinking of his belt made her flinch in anticipation. So sweet were her reactions. He rested the leather against her behind softly for a moment before yanking her panties up between her cheeks. She let out a surprised grunt and looked back at him, a scathing comment on her lip.

He quirked a brow and swung the belt down against her behind turning whatever she was about to say into a yelp of pain. Quickly he brought it down again to the other cheek and another in succession to land across both. Fire bloomed across her cheeks, slight welts rising in his wake. It was not the only thing rising. Merlin her ass was fucking perfect for this, so round and just enough jiggle to nearly mesmerize him.

Twice more he struck her, each met with a muffled whimper as she buried her face deeper into the couch. Softly he stroked her skin, feeling the heat from his ministrations radiating from her. He bit back a groan as he palmed and kneaded the flesh, "Would you like to be over my lap for the rest?"

There was a long pause before her timid voice sounded, "Yes Master."

The affirmation made him hard as a fucking diamond. He was going to burst through these slacks if he didn't get free. Taking a seat on the longer sofa he patted his lap. Cautiously, her cheeks stained with tears, she laid herself over him.

Without a word he adjusted her so her hips were pressed firmly against his arousal and she gasped softly. Smirking, he tugged the cloth between her cheeks, twisting it around to dig into her clit as she held back her moans red-faced.

What a sight before him. Her pert little bottom was already red and hot from his belt, her cheeks equally red with arousal as she tried to control her breathing. She was born for this, for submission, to be his submissive.

The first five strikes were quick, stinging and sharp. Each jostle pushed her harder against his erection and it was difficult to keep his mind on the count. When they had reached ten he switched to harder more thudding blows, rubbing the ache away between each strike. By now her entire backside emanated a fiery heat that had him throbbing beneath her. He wanted nothing more than to throw her down and fuck that glowing behind until she screamed.

He had been an asshole though and he wanted to make it up to her somehow. Once the final blow had landed, and the last sweet cry escaped her lips he took his time trailing his hands over her. He rubbed her arse, gently kneading and stroking until he could see her panties darkening with her arousal.

"What a good girl I have, you took your punishment so well Hermione," he purred as he continued to tend to her aching body.

At the sound of her name her body shuddered. He tucked away that bit of knowledge for future use. She made no move to leave his lap, her body limp as he continued to trace patterns over her abused flesh. His fingers trailed to her panties and he pressed a finger to where he knew her opening to be. She let out a shocked groan.

"What's this?" He rubbed harder, another little mewl escaping her that shot straight to his groin, "Are you wet from your punishment?"

No response followed until he fisted her mass of curls. "Yes Master!" she cried out, the lusty gravel in her voice made his cock twitch.

"What a naughty little slut," he growled as he yanked her panties down to her knees. Immediately he pumped two fingers into her pussy. The pressure around him nearly made him groan; she was so fucking tight. She was so aroused, his furious in and out was accompanied by a delectable wet clicking. It drove him wild with desire.

He brought her head closer to his lips until she was on all fours, the pressure on his dick gone but the sight of her, mouth agape and eyes lidded as he filled her over and over was enough for him. His thumb found her clit and he made sure to rub it as her eyes flashed open wide when he grazed it.

"Isnt that right Hermione?" Another shudder of her body. "Aren't you my filthy slut?" He pumped harder into her and she groaned out a passable response. Fuck he needed to see her come undone, to watch the prissy little swot beg to cum on his fingers.

His lips were directly against her ear now, murmuring darkly, "What did you do during your practical? Did you show the instructor what a good cock sucker you are? Is that how you got a perfect score?"

Anger flashed through her, he felt her tense but he just pressed harder against her bundle of nerves, making her cry out.

"If it was nearly half as good as your performance earlier then I'd certainly give you an O. I'd give you a bloody perfect score." Her body shook, orgasm nearing its peak and he slowed his movements, drawing out every little tremor he could. "Especially if you swallowed it all next time."

"Please, Sir," she whimpered, rolling her hips back against his hand.

Ah, there it was, "Please what pet?" He turned her head to look into her eyes. They were nearly black, pupils blown wide in her arousal and her breath coming in short shallow spurts. Her eyes flickered down to his lips and a rush of desire flooded through him.

He _wanted_ to kiss her again. A Lily with betrayal in her eyes flashed across his consciousness and pain quickly eradicated his desire. Her voice, oblivious to his guarded hurt, broke through him, "Please make me cum, Sir."

He smirked, masking the dull ache in his chest, and quickened his pace once more as her eyes fluttered shut. "Cum then Hermione, cum for me."

Her resounding moan as she clenched hard against his fingers made him grateful for the wards set in place around his rooms. It seemed to go on and on as she pressed back and squeezed him with her orgasm.

With one last shudder she collapsed forward, panting into the couch as her reddened backside lay in his lap once more. Distractedly he stroked from her back to the top of her thighs and back again, repeating the motion in a soothing and calming gesture.

He was a broken man. One consumed with anger and the unrequited love of a dead girl and still this young woman desired him. Sure, he had coaxed himself into her panties but she looked at him with desire and lust that flared so brightly it burned with the memory of when Lily had looked at him similarly.

They had been much younger, fourth year, but the same twinkle in her eyes shone. She had leaned forward, green eyes sparkling with desire, and she had kissed him. It was awkward and clumsy and to be honest not all that great. When she had pulled away the desire was gone, the fire drenched in icy water as if it had never been.

The young woman wiggled beneath his hand with a contented sigh. He smacked her bottom sharply, "One is enough for this evening."

He urged her to stand, doing the same and smirked at her disheveled state, "Perhaps if you had arrived earlier I could have done that over and over until you had your fill." Once more her pupils dilated with need. "But it is late and we have an early morning. We will meet in the lab at 8."

He left her, making to his rooms when her voice called, so softly he nearly missed it, "Thank you, Sir."

Lust came back to him in an instant, making him pause and contemplate dragging her into his bedroom. Her submissive tendencies came out at the most unexpected times and jolted to his cock like a bolt of lightning to a metal rod.

Steeling his resolve and without turning to face her just-cum appearance, he gruffly said, "Goodnight Granger." He locked himself in his rooms and stripped down to nothing. He could do nothing to shake the bushy haired swot from his head as he drifted off to sleep.

...

 **Hey everyone! Thanks for reading and taking the time to review. For those of you with concerns saying Severus is abusing Hermione well guess what buttercup? She was coerced into this contract, its going to be a little shady at times. But I promise there is more to Severus' feelings for her. Even if he doesn't see it or know how to express it very well. As always your reviews inspire me :D xo**


	11. Chapter 11

Hermione woke to the annoying buzzing emanating from her wand on her night stand. It glowed brightly in the dark room and she groaned sleepily, grasping it and flicking the wand upward to snooze for another five minutes or so.

She pulled the sheets tighter to her and snuggled deeper into the warmth of her bed but sleep eluded her. Once she had caught sight of the silken green sheets and dove-grey walls around her, all thoughts drifted to one snarky Slytherin.

Last night he had seemed positively irate with her, had put her down, sneered at her, and spanked her like a petulant child. Gingerly she pressed a finger into one cheek, then the other to check for soreness. Surprisingly there was none to be found but there was a lingering soreness between her legs that made her cheeks glow.

It was a faint ache but present nonetheless when she shifted her position to rub the sleep from her eyes. His fingers had been buried inside of her and she had begged to cum on them right after he had spanked her. Heat radiated from her cheeks and desire pooled in her lower belly.

What was wrong with her? Was she supposed to like getting spanked? It had felt so good to be pressed into his lap. Even better was the feeling of each blow as it vibrated straight to her core, the pain nearly eclipsed by the pleasure shooting through her. And sweet Merlin he had been so hard underneath her! His cock had dug into her hip and throbbed with each strike. It had taken nearly everything she had not to grind against it and moan wantonly.

Hermione dug the heel of her palms into her eyes until she saw stars, desperate to make the image disappear before she went to see the man himself. Before her wand had even buzzed, signaling her five extra minutes were up, she disabled the alarm and went to shower. It was going to be a long day.

Master Snape was waiting for her when she arrived a few minutes before eight and he offered her a nod in greeting, "Miss. Granger, I trust you are well rested for your first day."

Hermione flushed, images of his fingers deep inside of her, that same voice caressing her intimately flashing through her thoughts before she nodded. Quickly she added, "Yes, Master."

He gestured to the back of the lab where she knew his private labs to be, warded and more secure than a Gringott's vault. "We will take all our apprenticeship lessons in my private labs. You will find a simple 'alohamora' will get you in now that you carry my magical signature."

She grinned widely, "We will work in YOUR private lab?"

He scowled and unlocked the door, leading her in, "Isn't that what I just said?"

Hermione was stunned into silence as she entered, a sarcastic retort fluttering away in the wake of her sudden awe. The room was sizable, but what had made her throat run dry was the pristine, meticulous organization of every ingredient, every cauldron, and every stirring rod.

Stainless steel countertops gleamed in the light, spotless and no doubt sanitized since his last brewing session. Cauldrons of all sizes and material hung on the back wall, scrubbed clean, seasoned if necessary, and ready for use. She could see copper, pewter, cast iron, ceramic, and one that she was certain was iron infused with blood; its brownish-red hue making her stomach turn as she thought of what kind of potions would require such a cauldron.

A three basin sink sat below the cauldrons and she realized that Snape must wash everything in here himself. For some reason this surprised her, she would have thought he had no patience for tidying up after himself and left the house elves to it. To the left of the room were shelves of empty flasks, organized from biggest to smallest. The shelves beside it were stocked with ready-made potions, labeled and dated in his spidery scrawl. The same scrawl etched into her lower back.

Finally her eyes caught sight of the only cauldron atop a lit flame on the stainless steel table. Curiously she got closer and peered inside. A bright blue potion bubbled softly and emitted a strange golden steam that swirled upwards in spirals. She had seen this potion before, just last night even.

"This was on the portrait entrance to your rooms last night. But I've never seen anything like it before," she muttered thoughtfully, more to herself.

"Five points to Gryffindor," he said with a half smirk, "I can charm whichever potion I'm currently working on to mirror in that portrait. It makes checking in on my potions much quicker."

"Brilliant," she said honestly. It was brilliant, not only could he check on his potions but it was also a frequent reminder so there would be no chance of forgetting.

"Flattery will get you nowhere Granger," he said, the smirk still lingering on his lips told her otherwise. "Look around," he commanded and she glanced around, unsure what she was supposed to be looking for, "This is the state this room will be left in anytime you leave, I will not stand for a sloppy apprentice."

She scowled and crossed her arms defensively. As if she would leave anything amiss.

"You will keep yourself and your work space organized, tidy, and CLEAN. The quickest way to contaminate your work is through unsanitary practices," he glared pointedly at her here, "You will abide by the strictest standards here."

A flood of need flushed throughout her body, starting in her chest and seeping straight to her core with a familiar pull. It was intoxicating to be here, in this room with him, his voice dripping with authority. She wondered if he would spank her should she commit any wrongdoings in the lab.

As if reading her thoughts he said, "In this room, you are my apprentice, nothing more. I will not have you distracted. You are here to learn. When you venture forth after your four years, what you do is a direct reflection upon me." He looked at her sternly, "I will be expecting great things from you."

Hermione blushed, pride swelling within her as his words pierced her heart. He thought she would do great things. No, he expected it. Never had he shown such confidence in her or her abilities and she knew from this point forward she would do everything in her power to prove him right.

"Now," he said with an air of finality, pulling out a scroll of parchment from his robes and enlarging it in front of her. Questions stared back at her and for a brief moment her eyes widened in panic. Rolling his eyes he said, "Relax Granger, it's not a test. I simply wish to see how advanced you are in your studies, what equipment you are familiar with, and what advanced theories you know and how well can you apply them. Once you are done you are dismissed for the day."

Still she felt her chest squeeze at feeling unprepared. Immediately her mind started regurgitating facts and theories she had just written about Friday throughout her NEWTS. Equations and formulas circled in her head as she pulled a quill and ink from her bag. What if it was too advanced? What if she didn't know anything?

Snape left her without another word and pulled a cauldron from the back wall. Sighing softly she returned her eyes to the parchment in front of her, wincing slightly as she pulled it open. It was nearly three feet long.

The first section mainly revolved around preparation of ingredients, equipment, and properties of a few lesser known ingredients. A few questions had already fumbled her and she was growing more and more agitated as the minutes ticked by.

He seemed perfectly oblivious to her discomfort, preparing ingredients for his potion as meticulously as ever. His hands seemed to dance over his work, practiced and graceful as he chopped diced and pressed what he needed before scooping them into individual bowls for easy use. For a moment she couldn't help staring, he seemed so … at peace. Never had she seen him so in tune and his movements seemed so fluidic it was as if the knife were simply a part of him.

Blushing she forced her eyes back to the parchment, how could she have never seen it before? The passion he seemed to have for his work was attractive. In fact she would say it was downright sexy the way he delved into his work with fervor and grace.

Shaking the thoughts away she stared at the final question. _Using the ingredients listed below make an original potion and list out the amounts required, steps needed, and practical applications of your potion. You must use a minimum of 12 ingredients and it must be have a brewing time of no longer than one month._

Hermione stared at the ingredients, a dozen potions springing to mind. _Original._ The word mocked her in his scrawl, as if his constant reminders that she was simply a walking textbook were not enough. Defiance burned inside of her. She would not let this question serve as fuel for more of his snide barbs.

Grabbing a spare sheet of parchment from her bag, she began to write furiously, tackling equations, writing down and then scratching out ideas as they blossomed and fizzled nearly faster than she could write. Finally, once an idea settled, one she knew would rankle him to the core; she began working out formulas, deciding which theory would best fit her needs.

It took nearly two hours but she finally finished it. Looking down at the potion's recipe she smirked slightly, this might actually work. She was eager to test it, but more eager to see the smug smirk wiped off his face. When she looked up, he had just cast a stasis charm on his potion.

She rolled the parchment, her hand throbbing from hours of writing, and held it out to him with a smirk. He took it from her with a raised eyebrow. Triumph blazed inside of her, "I think you will be pleasantly surprised with my potion Sir," she said cheekily.

"I have no doubt I will be Miss. Granger," he said with an answering smirk.

Heat flushed her cheeks and before she could stop herself she said, "You may even find yourself wanting to test it out."

He cocked his head to the side and before he could unroll the parchment and read the name of her potion, she grabbed her bag and fled the rooms as fast as her feet could carry her. She ran through the corridors and up the staircases until her side cramped and she burst into the Great Hall.

Panting, she plopped into a seat next to her two best friends and slammed her head on the table. Both boys looked to each other and then down to her in concern.

Harry placed a hand on her back comfortingly, "Hey Mione, whats going on?"

"I'm dead," she mumbled through the table.

Ron chewed on some crisps loudly and laughed, "I told you! Harry you owe me five galleons, told you she wouldn't last a day with that great bat."

Hermione glared but didn't have it in her heart to scold him, if these were her last hours she might as well give her friend a break. Harry rubbed her back softly, "What happened?"

Quietly, as not to be overheard, she told them about the test he had given her and the final question. She shared the conversation at the end of the test and how she had fled the room before he could say another word. Ron looked fit to burst from laughter the entire time and Harry was the one who asked, "So what was the potion you made?"

Hermione swallowed hard, "A teeth straightening solution."

Silence eclipsed their conversation as the words she spoke sunk in. A heartbeat passed and then both boys roared with laughter, Ron spewing whatever food was in his mouth across the table. Hermione couldn't help but smile as their laughter turned their faces red and they clutched their sides with heaving breaths.

Movement caught her eye and she saw Snape sweep in from the teachers entrance. When he sat at his usual seat he immediately zeroed in on her, eyes livid and a sneer curling the corner of his lips. A sharp pain pierced her forehead and his voice echoed in her head, _"They cannot protect you all night, Granger."_

The pain subsided as the connection was broken and she winced. There was only ten hours until curfew.

 **AH what will Severus do? What going through his head? Does Hermione have a death wish? Tell me what you think everyone in your reviews and thank you all again for reading and commenting! xo**


	12. Chapter 12

The new Headmistress certainly had added her own flare to the room. Tartan curtains hung from the large window looking garish and entirely too Scottish. The shelves were stocked with some of Dumbledore's old baubles, photos of the restoration of the school, and an Order of Merlin First Class, nearly identical to his own that was buried in a drawer by his bed.

Still, Severus hated being in this room. Silver whirling objects hummed and spun without a care and a pang of guilt shot through his chest. Even when the room had been his own during his very short, very disturbing stint as Headmaster, he spent as little time as he could within it. Despite having locked away any remnants of Dumbledore's odd trinkets at the time and the old man's constant reassuring smiles from his portrait, the room still had felt colder than his dungeon ever had to him.

A roaring fire still could not keep the chill from his bones by being in these rooms. He held himself stiffly as the old croon barely looked up from her letter.

"You wished to see me Headmistress?" he drawled.

"Yes, yes, Severus, do have a seat," she muttered distractedly.

He sighed, this was not to be a quick visit then. Gritting his teeth in annoyance he took a chair across from her and crossed his arms.

Without looking up from her parchment she said, "I hear Mr. Anders is having a hard time acclimating to his dorms?"

Severus let out a breath he hadn't realized he'd been holding, his defensive posture loosening slightly, "More like he's a pompous little brat who can't make friends."

Minerva bit back a smile and looked up at him seriously, "Really now, Severus. Do try to be professional."

He smirked in return, "My apologies, Mr. Anders seems to be under the impression that his dorm mates are house elves to be ordered about."

"Well, I've already received three owls from his mother demanding he be moved away from his tormentors or she'll come down to the school herself," she continued writing, "She says he claims to be sleeping poorly because of this."

Severus snorted, "Probably missing his silk sheets and hippogriff down pillows."

"Can you believe parents these days? In my days –"

Before she could launch into whatever tirade he imagined would last at least twenty minutes, he cut in, "Is there a point to this, Headmistress? Or are we simply here to discuss Mr. Anders lack of beauty sleep?"

Finally she set her quill down and the parchment aside and looked up with a half smile on her face, "I take it she told you the good news herself?"

Realizing she was speaking of Granger's grades he snorted, "She could hardly contain herself." Thoughts of the girl brought his anger flaring back to the surface. The cheeky little wench had pushed him too far. Who was she to make commentary on his physical appearance?

Minerva, oblivious to his ire, chuckled, "Can you blame her? A perfect score? Gods I knew she was brilliant but-"

"Brilliant? So the brat has a penchant for memorization and a meticulous nature, what will come of it when there are no more tests to be had?," Severus muttered, almost under his breath. The witch was a good test taker, he'd give her that, but bar that there was much she needed to learn practically.

The Headmistress looked taken aback, "That's where you come in. Isn't that why you took her on?"

 _I took her on so I could shag her senseless whenever my cock got hard_ , he thought with a pull in his groin as he remembered how she looked staring up at him coated in his seed. "God forbid anyone deny the Golden Girl anything her heart desires." he said noncommittally. "I knew I'd have you on my back all semester if I had sent your cub away with her tail between her legs."

"Horse shite," Minerva said loudly, her Scottish brogue rising with her temper, and Severus raised an amused brow, "You're too old to be coerced by her pestering, so ye either believe she's got potential or there's more you'd like to tell me."

Great, now he was old too. Old with crooked ugly teeth. Anger swelled again, "What do you want, Headmistress? I have lessons to organize for tomorrow."

Her expression softened, "I was just looking to check on an old friend, I imagine this will be as much a transition for you as for the young girl."

Images of Minerva during the war flashed in his mind. Her hatred shone bright as the sun when she had battled him in the Great Hall. It had been a smoldering hatred that had grown throughout the school year. Each child sent to the Carrow's for punishment had been more fuel to her fire. He knew it had been his role, she was meant to hate him, but still her hatred burned.

The office suddenly seemed smaller. His cravat seemed to strangle him and he wanted out. He wanted out of this room, away from the portraits of Headmasters, away from the trinkets whirling merrily, and away from the older woman who now deemed herself his friend.

"It has been difficult but she is adjusting," he rose now, needing air and needing to escape. She rose as well, looking concerned and he schooled his features as the room squeezed him tighter,

Minerva misinterpreted his discomfort, "Just be patient with her Severus. She's a clever, respectful girl, and she'll do well with you."

He nodded once and inwardly rolled his eyes. Respectful indeed. She gave him one more scrutinizing look, care etched into her worry worn lines, and it was nearly too much for Severus to bear, "If that is all, Headmistress?"

With a sigh she nodded, "Yes, Severus, that is all. Do make sure the Anders situation is dealt with. And if you would care to send a letter to his parents that would be helpful."

Severus nodded slightly once more and started towards the revolving staircase. She called out to him once more, making him nearly growl in agitation, "Oh and do keep me abreast of Miss. Granger's progress. Such a bright star she is."

He rolled his eyes and offered an affirmative before descending the stone stairs. The further he stepped from her rooms the looser his chest began to feel, the more he began to feel himself.

 _A bright star,_ he thought with a snort. Hermione Granger was a swotty little know-it-all who had the audacity to insult him. Who was she with her unkempt bushy hair, her freckled cheeks, and her mundanely brown eyes?

He was going to show the little chit some respect. Never would she dare to breathe a word of disparage against his person again.

 **Thought I could get in another short build up chapter before the weekend for all of you following and commenting regularly. Thank you all for your wonderful comments and keep reviewing! xo**


	13. Chapter 13

The hours seemed to tick by like minutes and Hermione felt a jolt in the pit of her stomach each time she nervously cast a tempus. As an ominous 9:40pm glowed in front of her she sighed resignedly. This was it. Her last night on earth and last night watching Harry get trumped by Ron at wizarding chess.

Even the two boys, as clueless as they could be sometimes, noticed the way she had been growing more and more anxious as the minutes ticked by. Harry glanced up at the glowing numbers and frowned, "Mione, you can't seriously be this nervous to go back to your rooms?"

"You didn't see his face in the Great Hall. He looked worse than he did in 6th year when you sassed him in front of the entire class," she grumbled dejectedly and stuffed her book in her bag.

Ron ordered his knight to Harry's bishop and as the head clattered to the ground with a resounding cheer from Ron's pieces, Hermione wished she was back on that chessboard in first year. Anything would be easier than facing Snape right now.

 _Master Snape_ , her mind whispered and despite her anxiety a shiver of thrill raced to her nether regions. She had a feeling there was more than a simple spanking waiting for her back in her rooms.

Ron smiled as another of Harry's pieces was crushed, "Mione whats he going to do? Take some points? Give you a detention? You worry too much."

Hermione felt the butterflies circling her stomach like a flock of vultures suddenly burst into every direction and she thought she might be sick. What if he cancelled her apprenticeship? The thought alone had her heart rate sky-rocketing and her breath coming in short bursts. She'd be back at square one with her education falling dreadfully behind. The entire life plan she had worked out in her mind's eye would fall apart year by year. This was unacceptable. She needed this. She needed him.

Harry clenched her hand in his, pulling her fearful gaze to his worried one, "Hermione?"

Hermione shook her head and offered a terse smile, "I should go… before I'm late."

Harry held her hand firmly, "You know you can tell us anything?" Conviction held true behind his green eyes but Hermione knew if she were ever to tell him of her growing attraction to the Potions Master he would recoil from her faster than devil's snare from sunlight.

"There's nothing to tell. He was pretty upset when I came in after curfew last night and I'm already in hot water with him," she said with a soft smile and a gentle squeeze of his hand.

There was an unspoken connection between them ever since their nights alone in that tent. It was the fodder of much strife in Harry and Ginny's relationship and even Ron now cast them a wounded look. Harry looked as though he didn't believe her but he let her hand go and nodded.

Ron got up from the couch and slung an arm over her shoulder, "Mione knows we got her back. That greasy git ever lays a hand on you," he made a slicing motion across his neck and she laughed.

"Please make sure I'm there when you attempt it," she said still giggling.

Ron puffed out his chest, slightly ruffled, "Hey! We're Order of Merlin First Class, we could take him. Right Harry?"

Harry shook his head, "Definitely not, mate. I'd face Voldemort again before I took on Snape."

Hermione laughed again and extracted herself from Ron's hold as he gave Harry a fake offended look, " _Professor_ Snape."

Both boys rolled their eyes and before they could say much more she gave each a kiss on the cheek and hurried out of the portrait. The feel good vibes that were buzzing in her moments ago turned to fearful anticipation with each step she took towards her rooms.

She prayed to whatever God was listening that Snape would have mercy on her. That he wouldn't send her away. She vowed to apologize for being completely horrid. No better was she than the Lavender Browns and Pansy Parkinsons who criticized others appearances rather than see the integrity of the person.

Sure, he was a bit of a bastard, but he had taken her on as his apprentice. He had willingly given up much of his free time for the next four years in order to help her get ahead in life. Not only had he encouraged her academically but he had opened up her eyes to a whole new world of sexual exploration.

This morning she had woken up early and flipped through _A Beginners Guide to BDSM_. The text was educational, dry even, and yet still she could feel her core contract with desire at the descriptions of each striking implement. The illustrations were scintillating. She watched the young girl in the book as her eyes lit up with lust while a stern looking man used a riding crop on her reddened cheeks. A blush crept along Hermione's neck as she hurried her steps.

By the time she had reached the portrait in his office, the cauldron swirling with a silvery blue liquid, she felt a sense of calm wash over her as she recalled part of her text.

" _Once a Dom has stated He will be punishing the submissive – You as the sub at that point should refrain from trying to "talk your way out of it" or justify or try to "reduce" the sentence. The decision has been made, and it is disrespectful to be questioning Him on His decision – in a more practical sense, it can lead to an extended or additional punishment."_

This is what he expected of her. She would take whatever punishment he deemed necessary with as much grace as possible. With the way she had acted, and the hurt she had caused him, it was a fair and reasonable request.

The room was pitch-black when she entered. Even the hearth, usually glowing bright with a roaring fire to chase the chill of the dungeons away, sat empty. Not even glowing embers from a recent fire cast a shadow in the room.

Stepping forward cautiously, she felt the presence of his magic before she caught sight of his shadowed figure. His magic snaked around her ankles and hoisted her up in the air. A surprised yelp left her and then any further sound was gagged by a rubber ball fastened to her mouth. Dangling upside down was disorienting, but not as much as when she felt the caress of a rope sliding over her robes, tying its self in an intricate pattern she could only feel. It bound her arms backwards, dragging her chest up and let her ankle drop before she felt a bar slide between her legs that made it impossible to close them.

Her feet were just barely an inch off the ground, arms fastened tightly behind her, bent over at the waist and gagged. She felt humiliated, the only saving grace being that her robes were still on.

Snape's eyes were heavy on her. Even though she couldn't make out his gaze in the darkness she could feel it piercing her, undressing her. She hung there in uncomfortable silence for what felt like ages before he spoke, "I've been thinking about how I might punish you all night, Miss. Granger."

Hermione felt a pang in her chest; not pet, not Hermione. .

"Many things crossed my mind," he said and his voice drew closer to her. "I considered bruising you," she whimpered softly, "humiliating you, forcing you to the edge of orgasm again and again before sending you off denied and under direct order not to masturbate."

Her heart was racing, she tried desperately to find him in the black of the room but his voice was coming from all around her. Despite the claim that losing one sense heightens the others, she had never felt more unbalanced.

His voice behind her now, "Perhaps I should bring in Lucius. He certainly knows how to break in the new subs. And oh how he would love to get his hands on you."

Hermione whimpered, feelings of revulsion blossoming in her stomach even though her pulsing pussy told a different story. Heat flooded her panties as she imagined the blond aristocrat in the darkness as well.

Suddenly the room was lit brightly and Hermione blinked and winced at the flare. His face was inches from hers; filled with anger and vehemence, but in being so close she saw the underlining disappointment which cracked the calm acceptance she had walked in with.

"But I feel I'd simply be wasting my time," he said with a note of finality. Tears filled her eyes and the bindings suddenly fell away. She just barely had time to put her hands out before her face hit the floor. The gag still held secure to her mouth and she struggled to sniffle through her tears.

When she looked up, desperation written in her eyes and hoping he would see how she wanted to take her punishment however he wished it, he practically sneered down at her, "Do see that you are composed for tomorrow's lessons and your apprenticeship lesson after dinner."

He walked away, slamming the door to his bedroom shut. Once the door had closed the gag around her mouth disappeared and she stared after the door with her mouth open in shock. Tears streamed down her cheeks as she realized that she may have just ruined any chance she had at proving herself to him.

It was a few minutes before Hermione could pick herself up and go to her own rooms. Pain echoed in her chest and a fresh wave of tears threatened to spill over. This immense disappointment was new to her. Even her parents, after having their memories wiped and being relocated to another country, had never been so despondent after the truth had been shared with them.

No teacher, no adult, not anyone really had ever seemed so disappointed in her. She was an Outstanding student, Head Girl, Prefect, a perfectionist nearly to a fault and a loyal dedicated friend. The hollow ache in her chest was reminiscent to Ron's look of betrayal when she refused to follow after him and left her and Harry in that godforsaken tent. Abandoned. Alone.

As she crawled into bed more tears spilled over as his hateful sneer flashed in her mind. She cried even harder. Cried for being such a spoiled brat, for insulting her Master, for his displeasure, and more importantly for the utter disregard he had for her now.

She had let him down. So much so that he hadn't even the will to punish her for it and had left her gagged until he was out of ear shot. Her pillow was wet beneath her but she didn't care and wiped her face on her sheets.

 _But I feel I'd simply be wasting my time._

Was that how he saw her now? A waste of his time that he was bound to by contract? A few more tears joined the rest and she shook her head. No. No, she would prove otherwise. She would convince him to take her back, to punish her as she needed to be for her indiscretions. Then she would prove her worth; show him that she was serious in holding up her end of the deal. Somehow, she would do this.

...

The following day was a miserable affair. Dark clouds raged across the enchanted ceiling of the Great Hall and cracked with thunder so loud it made first year's jump in their seats. Damp cold air clung to the stone walls and set a chill in the castle. Students donned their scarves in the halls and pulled their robes tighter across them.

It was as depressing a day as Hermione felt. The common area she shared with Snape had been empty when she left. He wasn't in the Hall for breakfast or lunch and she no longer had potions class in the afternoon.

Dinner was no better. The sky was darker now and rain whipped violently in air above. Even though the hearths shone a little brighter, Hermione still felt cold. No familiar black-robed Professor sat at the high table and each time the doors opened she snapped her head up expecting to see his sneering, scowling face.

When the doors opened a third time and a rather harried looking Trelawney walked in, Hermione pushed away from the table, unable to stand another minute in there. She raced to her rooms to change into her apprentice robes and just get her apprenticeship lesson started, where she knew she would see him.

Quickly, she put on the green and silver robes, hoping it would at least give her one or two brownie points in his eyes. A simple charm pulled her hair back into a ponytail. Unsure of what she would need, she simply put some spare parchment and quills in her bag and made her way to his private labs.

A few students in the halls cast her curious looks. It was not everyday a Gryffindor was decorated in the serpent's colours. She ignored them, eager to get to her lesson and to start making amends to her surly Master.

The lab was empty. A folded parchment with her name scrawled in his spiky handwriting sat on the countertop next to a potion's recipe. Glancing at the potions recipe first, she flushed scarlet as her own recipe for the teeth straightening solution stared back at her.

Cautiously she picked up the letter and read it:

 _Miss. Granger,_

 _Please attempt to brew your potion and then write me 12inches on why you failed and how you would correct your recipe. Leave it on the coffee table tonight._

 _-SS_

Hermione scowled and slammed the parchment on the counter top. Failed? He assumed she would fail right from the beginning? It was impossible. She had run the numbers twice, triple checked her ingredients list, and run the tests through her mind a dozen times after.

With an agitated huff, she slung her bag to the floor and went to collect a pewter cauldron from the back rack. She had come in eager to impress him and he was nowhere to be found. Now she was not eager to impress, she was desperate, manic even.

Wild unsuppressed magic crackled along her skin and she growled as it fizzled along the cauldrons edge. This would not do. She took a moment, a breath to rein in her magic lest it cause havoc on the potion she needed to turn out flawless.

Carefully she scaled each ingredient, not even a milligram off. The fire beneath her cauldron flickered and her hands worked seamlessly to dice and slice each item. Last she gingerly squashed the flobberworm carcass until it was a nearly smooth past.

The smell of the flobberworm was nearly enough to make her gag but if this was the line of work she wanted to get into then she would need to start sucking it up. Not literally, just the thought made her shudder. She poured the mutilated worm into the cauldron and turned the heat to a medium setting.

Meticulously she worked, and as each step turned out exactly as planned she was nearly giddy with triumph. After the last steps of today she would need to let it simmer for several days before the next steps.

It was a heady feeling, brewing something entirely of her own creation and watching as each step turned out as a textbook example. This was what she wanted, freedom to brew what she desired and the challenge of something new and unexpected. Master Snape could take that twelve inch essay and shove it right up his-

As she poured the unicorn tears into her potion everything went wrong. Her potion, rather than mixing into a soft pink viscous mixture, curdled and refused to infuse together. In a panic, she rose the temperature and began to mix vigorously in an attempt to bind the ingredients together.

Big pink bubbles began to rise and burst from her cauldron, splattering the table and sleeves of her new robes. Frustration swelled in her chest as she lowered the temperature to barely a simmer, still stirring the congealed mess in vain.

Master Snape suddenly materialized at her side, hardly containing his smirk as she jumped. The disillusionment charm had been so good she hadn't noticed the telltale shimmer in the air that usually accompanied it.

With a lazy flick of his wand he vanished her potion and sent her cauldron to the sink to be scrubbed. She was nearly in tears again, frustration raging inside of her at her failure and his stupid smug face. "What went wrong?" he asked calmly.

Hermione swallowed past the lump in her throat, determined not to cry again, "It split, it wouldn't come together."

He raised an eyebrow, "I am aware. Why did it happen?"

She looked down and shrugged, unable to look him in the eye as her first test as an apprentice failed miserably.

"I am not here to spell it out for you Granger," he snapped forcing her eyes back to his with the bite of his tone. "Why would a potion split?"

Automatically her mind spouted off answers, "Cold ingredients added to a hot cauldron, too high of fat content, mixing water or alcohol with fat and no emulsifiers."

He rolled his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose, "Yes, now which ones apply to your potion?"

It clicked immediately. As soon as the words had left her mouth she knew where the potion had gone wrong and she nearly stamped her foot in anger. "The flobberworm and the unicorn tears," she bit out.

"Correct. Flobberworms are comprised mainly of fatty tissue. That mixed with the unicorn tears was bound to be a disaster and then you made it far worse by your spastic attempt to mix them."

Humiliation burned through her chest and heated her cheeks. "The potion needs both items to work correctly, flobberworms are used in making skele-grow and—"

"I know WHY you chose the ingredients you daft girl, stop spewing your textbooks and listen to me!"

His harsh tone snapped her lips shut and she flushed again. Looking down, she bit the inside of her cheek to keep her tears in check. "I'm sorry, Master," she whispered.

A frisson of silence stole through the two. The air between them nearly crackled with desire as she felt his eyes boring into her bowed head. Eye contact restriction. It was a chapter in the book she had briefly skimmed through and had wondered at the time if it was something he was into. Clearly it was. Internally she smiled. Point one for Hermione.

He cleared his throat, "Since your potion will require both to work correctly, how should you overcome this obstacle?"

Hermione thought for a moment, still keeping her eyes downward, "I should use an emulsifier to bind the ingredients."

"Precisely. Now which to chose?" He tugged her ponytail gently until her eyes connected with his again. They were dark, whispering promises of something more. "Clean this room and I expect your write up no later than midnight."

Without another word he left the room leaving her body tingling with the power of him. He was mean. He was unnecessarily cruel. He was a bastard. But her panties had never been this wet for anyone that came before him. She would ask to be punished tonight and she hoped when he was through, he would quell this ache burning inside of her.

 **:D I made this a much longer chapter to thank you all for being so patient. Severus' point of view next. OH Im so excited. Please read and review as always and let me know what you guys think! xoxo**


	14. Chapter 14

_Green eyes stared up at him hungry with lust as his cock disappeared through her sultry pink lips. One hand was loosely fisted in her fiery hair while the other gripped his armchair, tensing as her tongue flicked against the underside of his head._

Severus squeezed the head of his cock, clenching his teeth to hold back the orgasm building inside of him. Since he had left Granger in the lab to scrub her mess hours ago, he had been off and on hard the entire time. It wasn't often that he took matters into his own hands but he had nearly sliced his finger mincing the wiggentree root for his morning class. He couldn't concentrate with half his blood flow travelling south, so a little self indulgence was necessary. Giving his cock another squeeze, he focused his attention back to Lily.

 _Her lips let his cock free and she smiled coyly, her hand curling around his shaft and continuing to pump him as she spoke, "I know you've wanted this for a long time, Sev."_

 _He groaned, thrusting his cock up into her hand desperately. "Fuck," he growled._

 _Her eyes glazed in lust as she took him into her mouth again. She took him as deep as she could, gagging as she neared the base. The sound was intoxicating, his Lily, taking him all the way. He tightened his fist in her hair and held her there, watching as her eyes grew unfocused with the effort of it. So close._

Fighting a groan, Severus jerked himself harder. Lily had been the object of nearly every fantasy since he was a teenager, and he never grew tired of her. She was perfect in his mind. Always eager to please him, always smiling, always knowing just what he needed. He was close … so close.

 _He threw his head back and clenched his eyes closed as she sucked hard on the end of his cock. Pleasure ripped through him like a razor. Lily circled her tongue around him, each swipe against his sensitive flesh a jolt of ecstasy, and it was nearly enough to push him over. Frantically he gripped both hands in her hair and began to roughly shove himself into her wet mouth. He pumped himself into her, desperate for release. He felt a hand grab his balls and he hissed in pleasure._

 _Just as he felt the moment of no return, he looked down, eager to watch Lily swallow it all. But as Severus looked down, he saw not Lily but Hermione with her swollen pink lips wrapped around his shaft._

Severus hissed and came hard with the image of his apprentice's big whiskey eyes looking up at him as he fucked her face. Cum splattered against his stomach in thick gobs even as his hand stilled in shock. His heart hammered against his heaving chest. What in the bloody fuck was that?

Wandlessly, he _evanesco-ed_ the mess away and sat on the edge of his bed, pinching the bridge of his nose in annoyance. That damn girl was getting under his skin. First, she had wormed her way into his daily life by practically begging to be his apprentice and now she had inserted herself into his fantasies.

Yes, he desired the girl that much was obvious if the constant tenting in his trousers was to be consulted on the matter. But fantasizing about her? What was there to fantasize about? If he wanted her he could damn well go to her bedroom and take her.

Perhaps that was the problem. He had been playing an old game. Draw her deeper into his perverse desiresby invoking her curiosity and pinning it against her own stubborn longer he held out on penetrating her, the more she would desire him, the more she would do anything to please him. It was simple but it seemed to have backfired spectacularly if he found himself wanking over her like a smitten school boy. Severus sneered at the thought.

Trying to push the girl from his mind, he dressed in his loose slacks and a white t-shirt. Perhaps some sleep would sort him to rights by morning. A quick tempus told him it was nearly a quarter to one. He supposed he should collect the girl's assignment before tucking in for the night. With a frustrated sigh he rose from the bed to make his way to the sitting room.

When he opened the door to his bedroom, he froze. Granger was on her knees in her silky pink negligee, hands resting in her lap and eyes closed, next to the coffee table. On the table next to her was a piece of parchment, neatly rolled and signed with the same cursive "HG" that glared back at him in the mirror every morning just over his heart.

She wasn't sleeping although her breathing was deep and even enough that perhaps she was just on the edge of the sandman's tail. How long had she been like this? Since midnight? Earlier? That primal part of him, the part that demanded her submission, purred contently. He hadn't asked her. He hadn't even made mention of her kneeling for him, but here she was… a present on his doorstep.

Earlier in the lab when her gaze dropped and that quiet, _"I'm sorry Master,"_ had slipped from her lips, his inner beast had awoken, demanding he take the girl to his rooms and make her cum harder than she ever had before. He would make sure she would never forget who she belonged to; remind her just who owned her.

Severus closed the door to his rooms audibly and her eyes snapped open. They didn't meet his but instead stayed focused on the ground in front of her like it was taking every ounce of will power not to look up.

Despite the orgasm he had just had, he felt his cock stir at the sight of her subdued. "Speak," he commanded.

Hermione flushed, pink skin blossoming across her chest that in the fire light was impossible not to react to, "I would like to apologize for my behavior yesterday, Master."

The tightening in his groin said she was forgiven but in his mind he knew he was still bitter from her appraisal of his dental hygiene. "What exactly are you apologizing for?" he said calmly.

An incredulous look flashed across her face and in error she looked up at him. He merely raised a brow and quickly she lowered her eyes again. A moment passed where she struggled to form her words, "I'm sorry for … insulting you."

"Why?" his voice was ice. Her breathing came faster now and he could feel the nervous energy pulsing off her in waves. As her chest heaved, he couldn't help but notice she wasn't wearing a bra. Tight nipples poked against the thin fabric with each intake of breath.

She nearly raised her gaze again but caught herself, her fists clenching in her lap. Good girl. "I don't understand," she said softly.

"Why are you apologizing? Did you mean to insult me with your choice of potion?" he asked, taking steps so he was directly in front of her now. The lace trim of the negligee had risen, riding high on her thigh and at just the right angle he could catch a peak of her matching silk panties. The beast in him growled again, wanting him to end this charade and take her now.

The blush on her chest crept higher, "Yes, Sir. And it was childish and unfair of me to criticize you in such a personal way."

Pain reawakened in his chest at her admission. Of course she meant to, and probably still thought his teeth far too yellow and crooked for her tastes. Despite being forty, the thought that this girl didn't find him physically appealing was a rather sharp, though not unexpected, blow to his ego.

"I wish for you to punish me," she said softly.

Silence eclipsed the pair and he watched her squirm ever so slightly. No doubt her knees were sore from the position, unless she had been thoughtful enough to cast a cushioning charm beforehand. She shifted her weight again; no, definitely not. Another flash of panties nearly made his thoughts falter and he was thankful her eyes were not on him; the tent in his pants would surely diminish some of his authority.

"And what, pray tell, would that accomplish Miss. Granger?"

She flinched at his harsh tone, her eyes glued to the floor, "I just … I thought-"

"You thought what?" he snapped waspishly, "Thirty lashes from my belt and I'd forget how disrespectful you'd been?"

"Thirty?!" she squeaked. "Yes… I mean… No… but-"

"Or did you hope to achieve another orgasm once you had gotten the painful bits out of the way?"

Her cheeks flushed brilliantly; bingo. "No Sir!"

She was lying, terribly, "There is nothing worse than a sub trying to top from the bottom. If I ever find you misbehaving purposely to get the discipline you desire, you will find there is a chasm's worth of difference between discipline and punishment."

Again she flinched, her hands wringing themselves in her lap nervously as she forced her eyes to stay glued to the ground in front of him. If that hem rose any higher with her nervous fiddling, he'd lose control. He was in constant view of the fabric between her legs now. He wanted to slip it aside and lose himself in her.

"You seem to forget your place in this hierarchy," he watched as her shoulders sagged, the weight of her error finally settling on her. "No other Master would stand for such petulant behavior."

Watery eyes rose to his and for a moment he felt a pang of guilt, but he steeled himself. It would not do to have an apprentice with a rebellious streak, submissive or not.

"This will not happen again. No matter how familiar you seem to think we are, you will do as you're told without the attitude." he said sternly. "This is your one and only warning. I will not have an apprentice, now or ever, who doesn't know her place."

"Yes Master," she said with a slight quiver in her voice.

The signature across his chest ached, sending little jolts of anxiety to his heart and he scowled in annoyance, "Take your groveling back to your rooms."

With a wince of pain, Hermione stood, rubbing the ache from her knees for a moment before heading to her door never raising her eyes to him. Severus watched her long legs and the soft globes of her ass quiver and shake under her slip as she took tepid steps and felt his cock twitch, remembering just how long she had sat out here on her knees for him.

"Know that this little display will be dealt with at my convenience, not yours, Granger," he said to her retreating form. She paused, her hand just on the door knob to her rooms. "I suggest you look up the difference between punishment and discipline in that book of yours rather than proper kneeling posture."

Without a word of acknowledgement, she pushed into her rooms and closed the door behind her. He felt her wards encase the room in protective spells and he knew he had made her cry again. Pain throbbed in his chest again and he cursed the stupid contract he had made her sign and himself for forgetting the fine print. How could he have forgotten something so important?

Growling in agitation, he snuffed the roaring fire with an angry slash and snatched up her assignment.

He knew exactly how. That lithe little body of hers had danced in his mind's eye and all he could see was sinking his prick into her over and over. And now he was tethered to her. Anytime her distress was high, the pain echoed in his own chest as if he were experiencing it himself.

Her well being was his responsibility. Emotionally, physically, magically, in all senses he was bound to care for her and ensure her good health and over all contentedness. He snorted as he stepped into his rooms.

What in the world did he know of contentedness? He was a bitter old man who had lived through and seen more death than he cared to remember. He had witnessed his colleague devoured by the same snake that had ripped out a chunk of his neck, had participated in revels and the slaughter of the one man whom he had begun to view as a father figure. Had held his lifeless love in his arms.

Lily's dead eyes flashed in his mind and he clenched his fists. Instead of slipping under his sheets, he detoured to the bathroom for a vial of dreamless sleep. The purple liquid went down easily, as it always did, and almost instantly he began to feel its effects.

Drowsiness clouded over him in a fog, weighing down his steps as he made to the bed. Fatigue pulled heavily on his eyes as his head finally nestled in the pillow. His last thought was of his apprentice, with dark lifeless eyes like the other woman he had loved.

...

 **Phew... this one took a bit more time for me to edit and go through. I hope you guys enjoy it and I promise there is some naughty fun times coming up with our favourite couple. Please read and review as usual :D Your reviews make this worth while xo**


	15. Chapter 15

_**Chapter 12: Discipline and Punishment**_

 _Despite these terms being used interchangeably for a number of years, there is a vast difference between the two in regards to the Dominant/submissive relationship. Those that live the lifestyle 24/7 understand that there is an important differential purpose between the two._

 _Discipline is an act of correction to the submissive. Unknowingly or unwillingly the submissive has displeased their Dominant with their behavior. Perhaps the submissive has done his/her chores improperly or not to the standards of his/her Dominant. This would result in disciplinary action. The Dominant may choose to lecture the submissive, make them redo the task, or invoke minor physical punishment in order to deter the behavior from happening again. This is all in an attempt to make him/her a better submissive._

 _Punishment is usually administered when a submissive has been purposefully and willfully disobedient or disrespectful to their Dominant. The submissive knows and understands the guidelines set before them and disregards them anyhow. For instance, a submissive breaks a plate out of anger when they feel the Dominant is being unfair to them. The behavior is known to be disobedient and disrespectful but the submissive does it anyway because of their lack of control on their emotions. Punishment will be delivered then to ensure the submissive knows that disobedience has consequences. This is generally an activity that neither party enjoys._

 _Note: Punishment for the sole purpose of the Dominant's amusement or entertainment is covered under "Sadism and Safe Words" and should be carefully coveredbefore entering in any serious D/s relationship._

Hermione read the words with a hammering heart. The small confines of Moaning Myrtle's bathroom stall seemed unnaturally warm and the collar of her apprentice robes seemed to constrict around her. There was a definite dampness in her knickers as she flipped to the next page. A number of disciplinary and punishment acts were listed on one page while the other was taken up by a picture of abusty blonde bent over, her face scrunched up in pain as a Dominant brought a rather daunting sized paddle down on her presented backside.

Another throb of desire pulsed through her as she stared enamored at the moving picture. The blonde's backside rippled with each strike, her shoulders tensed, her breasts swung forward, and the Dominant had a grim determined look to his face that reminded her so much of her own Master.

 _Thirty strikes_ he had said. Thirty. It had been two days since she had kneeled for him and still the number danced around her head mockingly. She could hardly remember the first five she had taken from his belt only a week ago. Did it hurt as much as she remembered? The pain had been bright and sharp, stinging hard a moment after the sound had reached her ears. Yes, there had been tears but they were more from embarrassment now that she thought more on it.

The blonde in the picturelet out a silent cry as the Dominant's blows came faster. Hermione snapped the book shut as another rush of desire pooled to her knickers. Could she even take thirty swats from his belt? Tucking the book back in her bag, she stepped out of the stall and towards the mirror.

Hermione looked around the room, thenunder the stall doors, blushing slightly at her own determination and with fierce Gryffindor resolve she warded the door shut with a flick of her wand. As she stepped in front of the mirror, that same determination faltered slightly. Black robes stared back at her; rows upon rows of buttons, tight pointed sleeves, and a white cravat fastened around her neck.

Blushing furiously as she thought of Snape's sneering face rather than her own pinkened cheeks, she yanked the cravat off and transfigured it into a black leather strap. It was simple, no embellishments or designs but it would serve its purpose. She folded the strap in her hands and gave it a test snap. The sharp sound made her flinch and her determination fell a little more.

Hermione turned her body so she could watch in the mirror and awkwardly brought the belt down on her behind. It hardly made a sound and glanced off the edge of her clothed bottom. With a frown she brought it down again, annoyed with a similar result.

Adjusting the grip in her hand she tried again and winced as the edge of the belt smacked into her and not the flat side. Her cheeks burned in humiliation as she tried again, this time producing a satisfying snap and sting across her asscheek.

The pain was dulled through the fabric of her robes though and she knew that without them it would be much more difficult. She charmed the hem of her robes to stay up and yanked her tights down, feeling the cold air of the deserted bathroom brush against her lower lips. In response her nipples tightened to pebbled points.

Once more she adjusted her stance and hold on her belt. Twice she brought the belt down in rapid succession, with far more force than she had dared before. It was like a bolt of lightning, the crack of leather echoing in the room, and before the pain had truly had a moment to set in, she swung the belt down again over the first strike. Pain radiated quickly making her drop the strap with a clatter on the tiled floor. Involuntarily her mouth hung open and her eyes went wide in panic as it continued to spread turning into a blush that colored her face red.

As the echo of the snap died down, she heard herself gasping in short restricted breaths. Her reflection looked back at her with crazed, watery eyes and a glance down showed the two clearly outlined welts on her right butt cheek and thigh, one more pronounced than the , she ran a finger across it, the hot raised ridge making her heart thump harder. With shaky hands, Hermione bent down and picked the belt back up from the floor.

Once more she swung the belt down, biting on the palm of her free hand to muffle her scream. The blow overlapped the first strike, the pain nearly blinding this time as a crisscross of welts stared back at her in the mirror. Out of somewhere perverse, pleasure hummed through her core.

Thirty. Thirty he had said. Could she even take another twenty-seven strikes? With his force behind it and the pain radiating across her entire backside rather than one concentrated area, she wasn't sure. Still, as Hermione stroked the abused flesh with feather-soft touches, she felt the tingle travel to her protruding clit.

Perhaps she was just a masochist. The pain certainly translated to pleasure in her mind but she shook the thought away. No, it wasn't the pain. It was _him_. Even now, thinking about taking the pain to please him and to hear his rough timber as the lust for her consumed him was what soaked her panties nearly through. She wanted him to lust for her just as much as much as she lusted for him. He would desire her. She would make sure of it.

Her wand vibrated against the porcelain sink and she cursed. With a sigh, she pulled up her tights and removed the sticking charm on her robes. It was time for her first "in-classroom" assistance and of course he had made sure it was the 7th years she would be monitoring along with him.

A final glance in the mirror told her she was in order and only a dull acheon her behind gave away her recent activities.

The halls were filled with students rushing to their classes, a few knocking into her along the way. Many of them cast a horrified glance when they caught sight of her robes, but visibly relaxed when they saw it was not their dour Professor, but lovable Hermione Granger.

She scowled menacingly at one particularly painful elbow to the hip and the second year who bumped into her looked positively alarmed, stammering out an apology before racing away. No wonder Snape never wore anything else, these robes alone struck fear into the heart of the students.

Hermione smirked; this was going to be a rather fun class.

Taking a deep breath, Hermione put on her fiercest scowl and slammed the door of the room open just as she knew her Professor would and strode into the room confidently.

Twenty heads whipped to her direction, apprehension paling their face before confusion settled in. Harry and Ron stared at her in shock, Ron paler than most and swallowing thickly. Draco sneered whilst the other Slytherins whispered to one another. Nearly everyone else either looked nervous or amused. The corner of her mouth twitched and a grin broke through the façade. Harry was the first to laugh followed by Ron's nervous chuckle and a few other titters around the class.

"Professor Snape will be along shortly. He has informed me that you should all continue on your potions from last week and should you need assistance that I will be monitoring the class for the time being," her voice belayed far more confidence than she felt, standing in front of her not long-ago peers.

Another cascade of whispers traveled throughout the room and the Slytherins looked venomous. The two Hufflepuffs, Justin Finch-Fletchley and Ernie Macmillan, spared no hesitation and eagerly collected their potions from the front of the room and got to work. Several Ravenclaws quickly followed suit, not wanting to fall behind the Hufflepuffs.

Harry, Ron and the other Gryffindors were slow to rise. When Ron reached the front of the class to get his cauldron he whispered, "The greasy git put you in charge for the whole class?"

Hermione gave him a pointed glare, " _Professor_ Snape had a potion to attend to and requested I start the class."

"Mione, I could bloody kiss you right now, potions class without Snape?" Ron grinned wide and picked up his cauldron. Its contents looked barely passable by her standards and not at all by Snape's she was certain.

Harry clapped him on the back with a mirrored grin, "Looks like we might pass this class after all with Mione taking over."

Hermione rolled her eyes and crossed her arms, "I am NOT taking over and even if I did, who says I would pass you?"

Harry grabbed his cauldron and gave her a feigned hurt look, "You would stand in the way of me becoming an Auror?" A bemused smirk curled the corner of his mouth, even as his eyes travelled up and down taking in her new duds. "Well, maybe if you're dressed like that."

With a final glare she sent the two boys back to their seats to work. The Slytherins had yet to move, every one of them openly glaring daggers into her. Arms still crossed, she raised an eyebrow to them, feeling very successful in her attempt at Snape's signature look.

Pansy was the first to break the stare down and whine, "Why should we listen to you? You've been his apprentice for what a week?"

Hermione gritted her teeth, "Two weeks actually, and you should listen because Professor Snape gave me these instructions to pass along to you."

"How do we know?" Millicent Bullstrode piped up from the back of the room.

Resisting the urge to roll her eyes, Hermione said, "What purpose would there be to lying about this?"

"Because you're a bossy little brown-noser who wants a few extra brownie points with the teacher," whispered Blaise, loudly enough to travel through the classroom and make the Slytherins break out in laughter.

Hermione flushed scarlet, "Now really that is completely inappro-"

"I bet she's getting all sorts of brownie points after hours!" Pansy shouted over the laughter, only sending the Slytherins into more of a fit.

"OI!" Ron called over the laughter, two chairs screeching across the floor as he and Harry stood abruptly.

Instead of deterring Pansy, she smiled vindictively and made a crude gesture with her tongue against her cheek. Hermione turned an even brighter shade of red, itching to pull her wand from her robe and curse the wretched witch.

Suddenly the classroom door slammed and an irate looking Snape stood in front of it. "What is the meaning of this?" he hissed.

Hermione, cheeks still flushed, raised her chin a fraction, "I was getting the class started as you requested, Sir."

Snape scanned the room, pointedly looking at the Slytherins without their cauldrons in front of them. "Not the entire class it seems."

His voice was thick, contemptuous honey in her ears. She shifted on her feet, feeling the warm sting on her backside travel to other parts of her body.

"The Slytherins - refused to participate," her voice sounded meek even to her own ears and she hated to feel weak in front of him.

"Potter! Weasley! Sit down! Slytherins, I expect more respect from my own House. That respect now extends to Miss. Granger... do I make myself clear?"

A grumbled "Yes, Sir," echoed through the class and practically in sync, every Slytherin rose to collect their potions. Soon the room was filled with the scents and sounds of potions brewing which quickly settled her nerves as she circled the room checking in on every student.

Fires flared, ingredients hissed as they were dropped into a bubbling pot, and a steady chopping could be heard from Ernie's table who seemed to be well behind the rest of the class. As she walked the room, offering advice where she could and receiving an outright sneer from Draco as she corrected his stirring technique, she could feel a set of eyes on her.

A tingle along her spine told her exactly who it was and heat flooded to her lower belly. Anytime she looked to him, he seemed to be preoccupied with his marking, but still she felt him watching her. Her mind drifted to thoughts of her book.

It really was a fascinating read. Not everything in it spoke to her but it certainly gave her a clearer view on what might be expected of her in the future.

A whole chapter was dedicated to public outings and group sessions. How she should walk (behind, never in front of her Dominant), how she should talk (always refer to the Dominant by his preferred title), how she should address other Dominants (Sir, never Master), how she should address other submissives (only when given permission to socialize). There were so many rules, so many things she could accidentally mess up on, it made her anxious just to think about.

But then she thought of his eyes, smoldering with approval and desire. Like when she had crawled to him and taken him in her mouth. Another wave of desire crashed through her, making her clench with need. The fading sting in her backside further fueled her desire.

Ron's potion looked practically vile by this point. The red-head looked flushed with frustration, stirring carelessly as the congealed mass wobbled around almost comically. He looked to her with panic-stricken eyes and her heart winced.

"Turn up the heat, let it melt all the fat and add 10grams of grindylow eggs to it, stirring clock wise _slowly_ for twenty turns. Then continue at step twelve," she said softly, not wanting their Professor to overhear. He nodded, turned up the flame to his potion and hurried to the storeroom to collect the eggs.

The rest of class passed rather quickly as Hermione easily slipped into the role of potions monitor. Before her apprenticeship she had already been doing this role for years, saving Neville's, Ron's, and Harry's behind on countless occasions. This time Snape couldn't take away house points.

By the end of class Ron's potion looked, well, passable if she wasn't mistaken. He might be able to scrape an Acceptable if Snape was feeling rather chipper. She was so proud; her assistance had potentially helped someone to pass.

As the students filed out, Snape stood, closing and warding the door behind the last one to leave. She gulped, this didn't seem good.

"Over the desk," he commanded, arms folded behind his back.

Taken aback she stuttered, "W-what?"

He took two controlled steps to her, each one nearly making her step back in turn, but she held her ground. "Bend over my desk and lift your robes, I will not ask again."

"N-now? Here?" she whimpered, looking towards the door. He couldn't be serious?

But apparently, he was very serious. He whipped out his wand and tethered her forearms to his desk, taking the last few steps to her and lifting her robes himself. She let out a shocked cry as he forced her tights to her knees.

His open palm came down heavy on the cheek she had just recently practiced on and she let out a loud scream. Immediately, his free hand muffled the end of her cry, pressing forcefully against her lips as he brought his hand down twice more on the affected cheek. She cried out into his hand and resisted the instinctual urge to bite down and escape. The ache in her backside was amplified twenty times over and she pressed forward, trying to get away from the pain. Still the sharp sting reverberated throughout her entire body making her desire soar back to life.

A nail scratched along one welt and her cry was distorted against his hand. "Who did this?" Roughly, he released his hold on her mouth.

"No-no one!" she gasped out. Another nail raked along the second welt and she whimpered through clenched teeth, protesting and attempting to pull away.

"No one?" he hissed venomously. A hand snaked in her hair and yanked her head up as the other hand came down on her ass again. Another jolt of pain was overshadowedby her desire, the pain nearly immediately transforming into pleasure as it rocked her core against the edge of the desk. "I saw you admiring it before class; you were practically screaming it in your thoughts. Now. Who. Did. This?"

That voice speaking harshly in her ears did nothing to ease the rapidly growing need building inside of her. "Master, no one I swear it," she pleaded. But for what? For him to stop? For him to fuck her? For him to scoop her up and tell her she was a good girl? _His_ good girl.

Another sharp spank, "Welts don't just appear girl!"

Hermione pulled on the invisible restraints and sighed, pressing her forehead against the desk, softly saying, "I did it."

"Speak up."

"I did it!" she screamed, her hands curling into fists as she attempted again to yank herself free. Heat flushed her cheeks and she kept her face down against the desk, unable to face him.

The hand on her ass stilled before it started to move slowly and tenderly across the abused flesh. "You used a belt on yourself?" his voice was no longer harsh, his rough manhandling softening to a tender caress.

Her cheeks flamed brighter, "Yes, Master."

Swiftly, he was in front of her, grasping her chin and forcing her eyes to his own. They were dark, pools of toxic lust that she wanted to lose herself in. "Show me."

Then he was in her mind and she pushed the memory forward, clear and bright since it was so recent. The grip on her chin tightened as he watched the scene play out. His breath came heavier and he was so close to her that she could feel it against her lips. It was dizzying, lust and desire and a desperate ache filling her up so completely that she nearly keened when he retreated from her mind.

For a moment he simply stared at her, as if trying to come to a decision as the war raged behind his eyes. His eyes flickered down to her lips and her heart fluttered. He wanted to kiss her... despite his vehement reaction to their first kiss. Briefly her eyes flitted down to his cupids bow and her breath hitched, she wanted it more than she wanted him to fill her.

Snape sneered, pulling his hand away from her chin as if he'd been burned and stepped out of view. Rejection stung until she felt one finger trail down the cleft of her ass, setting her skin ablaze. A soft moan was pulled from her throat as that finger circled her opening, spreading her juices to her outer lips.

"Did my pet enjoy spanking herself?" he rumbled low as that digit continued to toy with her.

Hermione blushed, "No, Sir."

The finger stilled and she whimpered, attempting to grind back against it. "No? Don't lie to me Hermione."

Since when had her own name become so erotic? The sound of it in his deep baritone sent vibrations straight to her clit. Again, she thrust back against him but he held his hand out of reach. "I'm not lying Sir, please..."

"If you didn't enjoy it, why did you continue?" Oh, sweet Merlin, his voice was directly against her ear now, the length of his body over her, pressing her into the desk as his finger suddenly plunged into her hard and fast. "Why did you keep going until there were marks left on _my_ property?"

Hermione moaned loudly, thought nearly impossible as lust and pleasure took over every fiber of her being. Involuntarily her hips rolled with each piston of his finger in her. With an index finger he managed to make her feel more heated and out of control than any of her previous lovers. "I pretended it was you, Sir! I wanted to see if I could take it the way you would like!" she cried out through the onslaught of pleasure.

A second finger entered her, slow now, deliberately curling his fingers now to stroke along her g-spot and her vision blurred. It was too much, her clit hummed, aching to be touched, the slightest brush against it was sure to set her off.

"Do you imagine I would be so light handed? To stop when there are welts?" his voice was low and sultry. It dripped with promise. "I want bruises pet. I want you reminded of me for days, not hours, every time you sit down."

Hermione gripped into the desk, her nails scratching along the surface of the wood as every muscle contracted in an erratic rhythm. She was so close. Then he was gone, the weight of his body off of her and she felt panic claw at her. NO! She was nearly there!

But her panic was torn away from her as she felt his cock enter her with one hard thrust. She screamed out her approval, her muscles contracting all around him as he stilled.

"Fuck," his voice rasped, making her whole body contract again. "Stop. Don't."

It was nearly impossible to control her pulsing pussy. It wanted to milk him for every drop he was worth and then some. The fact he was so nearly undone just by sliding into her set her ego on fire. She wanted to be his addiction, his only desire.

The stillness was agony, her rising orgasm receding as he stayed buried inside of her but refused to move. Her breathing was slowly returning to normal and she felt tears prickle the back of her eyes. No, no, no. Please move, she willed.

She could feel his coarse hands bruising her hips in a crushing grip as he fought to control his breathing. With her arms secured to the desk and his hands forcing her hips down, she felt helpless. Powerless. And instead of the anxiety that would claw at her in a similar situation, she felt safe. Under his control, under his power, she was secure.

Slowly, he pulled back, until he was nearly out of her, and thrust back in harshly. Pleasure jolted through her, more intense than before, making her gasp and clench her teeth.

"That's it pet, take me, take it all, be a good girl," he hissed through gritted teeth. The snap of his hips pushed her into the desk over and over. There would be bruises she was certain, but she didn't care. Her orgasm was rising again, threatening to pull her over the edge with each thrust.

"Who owns you?" his hips sped up, harder and faster into her now.

Hermione mewled loudly, "Oh God you! You do!" His. The admittance and realization of her own words shocked her. She was his.

A hand fisted her curls, yanking her head back and exposing her neck to the cold dungeon air. The pain of it hardly registered as his cock rammed harder into her.

"Who am I?" his voice was rough.

She hesitated a moment, lust fogging her brain, "My Master," she said a little unsure.

He ground his cock as deeply as he could into her, hips rocking against the edge of the desk making her groan. "Again, pet."

"My Master!" she all but screamed as the hand tugging her hair yanked harder.

He growled low, his forceful grip returning to her hips as he returned to his relentless fucking. Her pussy clenched around him over and over, squeezing and so close to the edge. One hand pressed down hard on her lower back, right over where she knew his mark to be, and the other reached around to find her swollen clit.

"Say my name," he panted out.

Confusion startled her for a moment; she wasn't sure what he wanted, "Master?" He pinched her clit hard and she squealed out in discomfort, "Severus!"

He quickly began to rub her clit, building up the pressure inside of her, "That's it pet, say it again, scream it and cum on my cock."

Those words in his voice had her cumming instantly, crying out his name as his cock stroked into her deeply. Light exploded and her whole body wracked with tremors as she shuddered around him. He continued his fevered thrusts, riding out each wave of orgasm and bringing her to an immediate second one. Her own cries sounded deafening to her, the peak of pleasure hitting her so intensely that it was impossible not to scream. His thrusts never slowed, frantic now, and the brutality of it just elongated her pleasure, each penetration wracking her body with shudders of ecstasy.

As the pleasure became nearly too much to bare, he grunted, slamming his hips hard into her and she could feel his release spurt into her. The finality of it made her heart thunder, that was... incredible. Better than she had ever imagined and what she had imagined was pretty amazing to start with.

Hermione rested her cheek against the desk, completely worn out, satiated beyond belief, and somehow, she knew if he demanded it, she would be ready for more. As it was, she heard him zip himself up and stride around the desk to sit in front of her.

To any observer, the man looked his usual stoic self, not like a man who had just fucked a girl senseless on his desk. But his eyes held none of their severity and the corner of his mouth twitched upward for a moment and she knew she had pleased him. His hand carded through her hair, nails scraping against her scalp so deliciously, she closed her eyes and mewled her content.

"What a good pet I have," he whispered softly. With another whispered incantation, her arms were free and she stood stiffly. Soreness radiated from her joints, slowing her movements as she rubbed the pain away. Her hip bones throbbed and a cursory prod told her bruises would soon be showing. It would certainly be a pleasant reminder of the thorough fucking she had just received. From her Master. In his classroom.

Dread flooded her instantly, class! A quick tempus told her she was already 15 minutes late to her next class. Hurriedly, she yanked up her tights and adjusted her apprentice robes, no time to change into her uniform. If she was lucky and caught the right staircase, she could be in Professor Vectors class in five minutes of less. Snatching up her bag she raced to the door and froze with her hand half way to the knob.

He hadn't spoken a word throughout her frenzied dressing and as she turned to face him, he stared at her, an arched eyebrow questioning her sudden halt. "Might I be excused for my next class, Master?"

Heat sprung back to life in his eyes and for a fleeting moment, she had a very un-Hermione like thought. _Fuck going to class._ She would be late to a hundred classes if she could make him look at her like that. Like she was a tasty meal to be devoured, savored, and consumed entirely.

For a moment it seemed as if he would call her over, but whatever thoughts had been swirling in his head were immediately shut down as his occlumency shields slammed into place. He waved her off noncommittally and turned his attention away from her.

"Be off Miss. Granger," he said quietly.

Hermione frowned for a moment, unsure of his sudden change, but left the class all the same. Must he be so guarded? Even after such an intimate act, she was no closer to guessing his thoughts. The knowledge that she knew so little of his inner workings left an itch inside of her that she knew would drive her insane if not scratched.

...

 **PHEW! Sorry it took so long to get this out but I made an EXTRA long EXTRA smutty chapter for you guys. What do you all think? Whats Severus thinking? What do you think of the dynamic? PLEASE Read and Review. Your reviews feed my muse. xoxoxo**


	16. Chapter 16

Severus let out a breath of relief as the door click shut behind Hermione. That girl was going to be the death of him. He was sure of it this time. His heart hammered in his chest from his recent orgasm, an orgasm that shook straight through to the very soul of him.

Never had he had such an intense release, and never had he ever been so close to losing his cool the moment he put his prick in a woman. It was… unnerving.

Grateful for the free period between classes, he stalked off to his rooms for a quick shower. The smell of Granger on his robes and person was sure to keep him permanently erect otherwise. Who was he kidding? After that little performance, just the sight of his desk was bound to keep him hard.

His cock twitched in agreement and he scowled. Traitorous thing. Fucking the girl was supposed to eradicate this constant arousal, not further fuel it.

As he reached his bedroom and striped down, he couldn't help but dwell on her rapid growth in such a short amount of time. He knew the girl was smart, but she had taken to submission like a mermaid to water. There were times she fumbled, as was to be expected yet she so quickly realized her mistakes that he didn't even get the chance to correct her.

The hot spray on his back made him groan in relief. There was nothing quite like a midday shower.

Or a midday fuck for that matter.

When she had caught herself before leaving, politely turning to him and requesting to be released for class… fuck… he had been rock solid and ready to take her again. Those deep chocolate eyes looking up at him hungrily as he looked through her memories shot straight to his groin like an invisible wire connected them. And those pouty sultry lips, begging to be fucked, begging to be kissed nearly drove him out of his senses.

 _Lily._ Once again, a flash of her indignant glare cut through his musings like a freshly sharpened blade.

He stilled the hand that had made its way to his aching cock and scowled. This had to stop. Constantly fawning over the girl was becoming a horrid habit. He would do well to remember exactly where she stood in his life, lest he become far too comfortable around her. She wasn't to be kissed and coddled like a _girlfriend_. The word was bitter in his mouth and he roughly continued to scrub her scent from him.

She was his apprentice. They lived in close quarters and worked together regularly. She did not and would not ever care for anything more than the knowledge he had to impart and the pleasure he brought her. Although, his recent foray into her thoughts spoke a different tale.

Lust was most forefront. He could feel how deeply she desired him, and his male bravado purred like a content lion at how much he affected her. But beneath the lust lay trust and respect. Reverence was a word that sprung to mind. She revered him, was in awe of him.

No, he shook those thoughts from his head. It was only lust. Lust and an equal yearning for knowledge that propelled those feelings forward. That was it. No matter how much she screamed his name at his command.

Solidifying that thought in his mind, he turned off the tap and used his wand to dry instantly. He dressed quickly, pointedly avoiding the bathroom mirror, not giving a flying fuck about how he looked. Let them whisper. Let the little cretins make their jokes. He was itching to give someone a detention.

The day dragged on, monotonous in comparison to his earlier activities. To his immense disappointment, all his classes seemed to be on their best behavior and his ravenous desire to yell, dock points, or berate someone to the point of tears went unmet. No doubt they sensed his volatile attitude and kept their mouths shut and their noses down. Smart kids.

Dinner was a cacophony of student laughter and mirth that set his teeth on edge. A heavy throb sat behind his left eye and he wanted nothing more than to skip out on the following staff meeting and drown himself in some headache relief.

Hermione sat at Gryffindor table, as usual accompanied by her dunderheaded counter parts, along with Lovegood, and Longbottom. Despite knowing the Potter boy was involved with the red-headed fool's sister, ire flashed through him when the boy's hand squeezed Hermione's knee under the table in a friendly reassuring gesture.

 _Mine._ The word growled through his mind. Hermione smiled gently at Potter and patted his hand, whispering something in his ear that made him nod seriously. What he wouldn't give right now for those blasted extendable ears the Weasley matriarch was always shouting about at past Order meetings.

Potter's hand tightened around Hermione's, his lips a breath away from her ear as he whispered something back, something that made her whole face light up and giggle. Hot fury raged through him; fucking Potters.

Tearing his eyes away from the pair, he viciously attacked his food before storming out of the Hall before dinner was through. The portraits eyes followed his as he stalked through the castle to the staff room. Their eyes were always on him, some glaring, some cold and indifferent, and few admiringly. He didn't know which was worse.

He had put an end to their heckling at the beginning of the year with a well aimed reducto to several portraits. Since then none had dared to voice their complaints, but still their judging eyes screamed at him. Who the hell had thought of animating portraits anyways? Imbeciles.

The staff quarters were empty, a roaring fire in the hearth casting dancing shadows along the long oak table in the center. Few portraits graced the walls, some of the staff, some of students, and an empty portrait for any previous headmasters to pop into whenever they felt like observing what was perhaps the most mind-numbing part of his week.

Slowly other staff members started to trickle in, some deigning him with a nod in greeting and others avoiding his eyes all together. Some grudges never died and he couldn't blame them for their wariness. Soon the table was filled and Minerva started her weekly snooze fest.

The meeting droned, his mind glazing over several times, only coming into focus for pertinent details like Head of House details and nightly patrol schedules. Over and over he saw Hermione in his mind, her laughter belting out of her from a whispered word from Potter. His hand in her lap. Her hand on his.

"Was there anything you would like to bring to my attention before we leave for the evening?" Minerva said to the room, her eyes gazing over her spectacles to flit about the staff searchingly.

Like a proverbial bulb flashing a glowing light, inspiration struck him. But how to make it so without overplaying his hand? "I believe we should perhaps discuss the roles of students rising to the level of apprenticeship. Their duties, accommodations, and rising rank including the responsibilities that come along with it," he said carefully, nonchalantly picking a stray thread from his robes.

Minerva frowned, and nearly twenty sets of eyes immediately turned to him. Severus never spoke up during meetings unless singled out with a question and even then usually only nodded or offered a one word response. Bloody fuck.

"As Miss. Granger is the only student currently occupying that role, come out with it Severus. What is it you want from the girl?" the Headmistress said with an impatient sigh.

He gritted his teeth in annoyance, clever old harpy, "It is my impression that we are being remiss in our duties as educators to prepare her for the responsibilities soon to be thrust upon her."

All eyes swiveled to Minerva, bouncing back and forth between the pair as if they were watching a fast paced quidditch match. She folded her hands in front of her, "Such as?"

"Miss. Granger should be given full authority and the ability to dock and award points to her pupils and dole detentions while she stands as apprentice in my classes," he started, conscious of every eye carefully watching his movements. He belied nothing, keeping his tone measured and even. "Secondly, she should be privy to these staff meetings, perhaps once a month, to ready her for regular attendance next year."

Minerva lowered her eyes slowly, becoming disarmed, seemingly ready to comply and dismiss the meeting, "Is that all?"

"She should be given a seat at the Head Table, to further iterate her position in the castle," he added in the same measured tone he'd been using all evening.

The Headmistresses raised a brow at this, "Her apprenticeship notwithstanding, she is still taking classes and should take meals with her classmates."

"Those classmates are also her pupils." Severus' voice dripped with ire, "If she is ever to take any command over them befitting a member worthy of this table… then she must be given a seat of authority. They must see her as above them."

Minerva flushed, her cheeks growing red with her annoyance, "And what of her friends?"

"Friends," he dismissed the word. "She has Sunday afternoons to enjoy enough socializing. That's enough is it not?"

"She's a child Severus, I believe she's entitled to more than a few hours a week with her classmates," Minerva said with a scowl nearly as fierce as his own.

"Must I remind you… _Headmistress_ … that this _child_ you speak of fought in the war alongside you and I? She was arguably instrumental throughout it, depending on whose account you read…" he recounted calmly.

"This is EXACTLY why she should be allowed to sit with her peers!" Minerva said standing from the table. She was fierce, her eyes threatening and her posture rigid, it brokered no room for argument. Immediately he was reminded of their tete a tete in the hall. She had been equally fierce then and he hadn't backed down.

"No Headmistress, this is why the Slytherins sneer at her, call her names, and make crude gestures in her direction such as witnessed by myself just today. I can only deduct so many points and hand out so many detentions." Severus too rose from his seat, countering her move with a calculated movement of his own. The other staff glanced back and forth feeling the air practically fizzle with unspent magic.

There was a tense moment where the two stared each other down, neither willing to back down from the argument. In his mind, Severus saw Minerva, wand raised, firing off hex after hex and he squashed the feeling of betrayal down. She hadn't known.

She must have sensed his change in demeanor and sighed, "Miss. Granger may be given authority over detentions and point distribution. She will also join us for next week's meeting. BUT, you will NOT force her to join us at the Head Table." He sneered, ready to continue the argument, and she cut him off, "However, you may ASK her if she would like to take her meals at the Head Table. "

He fought a smirk; oh he would be telling her exactly what he expected of her.

Minerva glared, "I mean it Severus! No coercion, no threatening, and no bribing! I will be checking in on her. Staff dismissed."

As quickly as they could the staff ran for the doors, eager to get as far away as possible from such a tense atmosphere. Severus made for the door himself, feeling a soaring elation that only victory can elicit, only to be stopped by a voice, "Severus, would you stay a moment?"

Panic tore down his victorious inner gloating, that voice sounding nearly as frail as when he had heard it on the Astronomy tower. He clenched his fists, struggling to get a hold of the anxiety that tore through him like a bolt of lightning through his chest. Despite spending several months in the Headmaster's office, hearing his voice and seeing his face never got any easier.

He said his soul would be fine, he had said intent was what mattered. Fat load that old dodger knew. Forever his soul was tarnished, split in half by one act, two words.

The Headmistress gave his shoulder a squeeze as she left the room to him and the empty portrait Dumbledore now occupied. The old man's eyes had lost their sparkle, flat canvas could only portray so much, and his withered blackened hand through the last of his days was gone, looking just as healthy, if not old, as its counterpart.

Severus stood stock still, arms folded behind his back to hide the slight tremor in them. Let the old man speak. Let him speak and then leave, find the girl, fuck her and forget everything. Or drown in a bottle of Ogden's. Either would suit him fine at the moment.

"You've been avoiding me, Severus."

He made no move to comment, simply staring down the Headmaster with an indifferent look on his face.

Dumbledore looked at him with a sad smile, "I should congratulate you on finding such a bright young pupil to take under your wing."

Severus let out a breath he hadn't realized he'd been holding. Talking about the girl was safe, he could do that. "She is… acceptable."

The Headmaster chuckled, "Acceptable? I dare say you'd chuck an acceptable student out of your class with magic if such a thing were allowed." Snape didn't argue that. Dumbledore continued, "I go so far as to say that Miss. Granger is exceptional, a true gem in this world."

When he did not respond the portrait continued, "She's brave, strong, fiercely loyal, a homage to her house. Not to mention quite a beauty."

Severus clenched his teeth in annoyance, what was this meddling old coot rambling on about?

"And forgiving. I can see why you'd be taken with her," the older man said with a pleased look.

Severus hissed and cast a silencing spell around the room, "You go too far old man! She is a student!"

"Were you not just arguing against that point in the meeting?" Dumbledore said with a curious look.

Heat flushed through Severus' collar.

"Come now Severus, everyone knows the happenings of Masters and apprentices. Why in my time under Emeric Switch," if his eyes could glitter, they certainly would now, "and I do mean _under_ …"

Severus groaned and shut out the rest of the Headmasters words. There must have been something faulty with the portrait they had set up for him. Never had the Headmaster ever been this forthcoming with his personal proclivities and now the dark wizard was practically getting a sex education lesson.

"ALBUS!" he shouted when the old man droned on poetically about the _raw power_ of such an established wizard such as Switch. "Even IF that were the case, which I will not say it is, the girl would be here for four years, she would get her education, I would have my appetite filled and then she would be on her way. Nothing more."

Dumbledore smiled sadly, "You are certainly worthy of more, my boy."

"You are a fool to believe that," he hissed through clenched teeth, knowing exactly where the Headmaster wanted to lead this conversation. _Love_ , the word was nearly laughable at this point. Love had leaded him to nothing but heart break, addiction, darkness, and vengeance. What good had being in love ever done for him?

"Severus, Lily is gone," he said softly. Her name pierced through his chest as viciously as it always did when spoken aloud. It felt like a hot knife sinking in deeper and deeper, each beat of his heart drawing the blade in further. "Tom is gone. It is time to let go."

Furrowing his pain away, he brought up his occlumency shields, "The girl means nothing to me, she is convenient and when the contract is over she will be gone."

Without waiting for the Headmaster's response, he stormed from the room, eager to be rid of that genial old man. Meddling, always meddling. Even beyond the grave the Headmaster intended to exert some control over his life. No more. That part of his life was over, he had paid his dues.

Lily. Potter. Dumbledore. The Dark Lord. Society. He had given up more than anyone of them could ever fathom _for the greater good._ It was done. He was done.

When he stalked into his rooms, he was further irked by the sight of his apprentice, curled up on _his_ chair reading a large potions tome. He wanted to yell at her, banish her from his sight, call her a filthy fucking mudblood and make her run, run far away and into the arms of yet another Potter.

Instead, he stalked over to his cabinet, pulled out his bottle of Ogden's and poured a rather generous measure, gulping it down in a single shot before pouring another and sitting opposite the engrossed girl, with the bottle and glass still in hand.

Severus nursed the second glass a little slower, his eyes traveling along her body. Hermione was curled up, feet tucked beneath her bum, one cheek resting on a propped hand, her eyes rapidly flowing back and forth over the written word.

The negligee she wore clung tight to her chest in her position, and through it he could see her nipples straining against the dusty rose fabric. In fact the more he thought about it, he was certain the garment was the exact shade of her nipples when they were tight and filled with desire for him.

Growling low at the thought, he knocked back the rest of his drink and poured another. As if just realizing his presence, Hermione's eyes jumped to his and she smiled, a little uneasily as she glanced between the bottle and his face.

"Good evening, Sir," she said softly.

Her timid voice shot straight to his groin, sending his half mast cock to a full blown erection with a few syllables. What in the bloody fuck was wrong with him?

"Granger," he muttered just before taking another long swill. Drinking was good, it dulled the ache in his chest, filled him with warmth, and brought a tingle to his lips.

The girl was wary, closing her book and setting it down with such care on the coffee table before her, eyes darting from his to the drink. "I can leave you be, Sir," she said.

"Stay," he ordered, appreciating the view as she shifted her position, long smooth legs now stretched down in front of her, tapering off to petite high arched feet and short stubby toes.

Nervously, she fiddled with her hands in her lap and glanced around the room. "Sir, really, I could go to Gryffindor tower until curfew if …"

He snorted, "Dressed like that? I'm sure your friends would be so pleased."

Her cheeks flamed scarlet and it sent another pang to his already aching cock. She didn't deserve his ire. She had been outstanding earlier, and in his haste over the past few weeks to achieve his own ends, he had severely neglected an important part of his role as Master.

"Sit back and spread your legs," he commanded softly, watching her eyes flutter shut in immediate desire. Without hesitation, she spread her legs open, allowing the night gown fall open and bare her smooth cunt to him.

A muscle in his jaw twitched, fuck she was certainly going to be the death of him. She watched him curiously as he placed the bottle and glass on the table before dropping to his knees on the carpet in front of her.

In a snap, he pulled her hips forward, bringing her delectable little pussy to the edge of the seat. A whimper of need escaped her throat and he decided he would most assuredly take his time in letting her know just how pleased he was with her.

Whispering an incantation, her wrists were immediately bound to the armchair, but she didn't protest and strain as she normally did, she simply sunk further back into the seat, purring her contentment. "Such a perfect little pet I have," he whispered against her inner thigh, nipping the sensitive flesh.

With an in articulate mewl, she pushed her hips upward, seeking pleasure. He chuckled, the drink hitting him nearly all at once as he placed hot open mouthed kisses down her leg. "Sit back and let me show you how much you've pleased me today."

Like a marionette, she simply slumped down and reacted as he pulled and plucked her strings like a practiced puppeteer. He trailed his teeth along her calf, biting harshly into her meatiest part and making her cry out in shock. Quickly he soothed the pain with his tongue, laving at the indentations he had made and sucking until her breathy little whines returned.

The sound of her erotic symphony was music to him, making his chest puff out in accomplishment, he wanted her aching and desperate for him. She would never forget to whom she belonged.

A piercing squeal and giggle and erupted from her when his tongue glided up the arch of her foot. He was grateful for his firm hold on her ankle or he'd definitely have a broken nose. The sound of her mirth set the mark on his chest on fire, he was so unfamiliar with the emotion that bubbled up through him it took a moment for him to place it; joy.

He couldn't recall if anyone had ever felt joy with him.

The giggle died off into a loud groan when he sucked each digit into his mouth and gently scraped his teeth along them as they left his lips. Her squirming had lifted the nightie up and her glistening pussy was calling to him, begging for attention.

Fighting the urge to dive in and devour her, he lifted her other foot to his lips, "Who's my perfect pet?"

A moment passed and she sighed, "Me, Sir?" Another squirm and giggle as he repeated the actions to her other foot. The emotion fluttered through his chest again.

"Is that a question little one?" he asked just before sucking her toe and eliciting another strangled moan from his witch.

She stared down at him, eyes brimming with such intensity it startled him, "No, Master. I'm your pet."

The earnesty of her words and the complete trust and devotion shining through her half lidded gaze shot a pang through his heart so acutely he couldn't bare it. Another incantation had her eyes shrouded with a black silk scarf.

He continued his trek up her leg, pausing at her inner thigh to leave a lasting love bite that made her hiss and sink her nails into the leather arm rests.

Her pussy was leaking so profusely by the time his tongue even ventured near it, she had left a mess on his chair, dripping so eagerly onto it. The sight and smell of her arousal was far more heady than any drink. His mouth watered, eager to plunge his tongue into her.

"What do you want? Tell me," he said, ghosting his breath against her visibly clenching core. Her hips jerked forward and he pulled back, tsking gently with a smile, "Use your words, Hermione."

She keened softly, "Oh God, Sir, please I need to cum!"

He chuckled, "I see," another breathy moan, "What kind of woman needs to cum with her Professor's tongue between her legs?"

All propriety lost, tugging at her invisible restraints slightly Hermione cried, "A slut Sir! I'm your dirty slut!"

"Fucking right you are," he growled before diving forward and sucking her clit into his mouth. Hermione screamed and in a fit of unintentional magic released her bonds and gripped his hair tightly to her.

Severus flicked her clit with his tongue teasingly before dragging it down and plunging as far as he could into her, tasting her, reveling in her inarticulate gasps, and basking in the glory of her, this prissy little swot, completely uninhibited.

Returning his attention to that sweet bundle of nerves, he teased two fingers into her and it was not long until he felt her pulsing spasmodically on his fingers. Her cry was muffled as she shuddered and closed her thighs around his head, riding out each wave as his tongue drew lazy circles on her clit.

When her grip loosened, he pulled back, face slick with her juices and the scent of her arousal overwhelming his senses. He vanished his clothing from the waist down and stood, dragging an orgasm subdued Hermione up with him.

Carefully he led her, still blindfolded, until the back of his knees hit the sofa and he sat, "Ride me, pet, cum again around my cock."

The shallowness of her breath sent a throb through his cock and he watched with amusement as she reached out blindly until her hands found his shoulders. Cautiously she placed a knee on either side of his hips. His cock was so purple he thought it might snap off if he didn't put it in her soon. The heat of her core so close to him had his breath coming out in ragged spurts.

Slowly, she lowered herself onto him and he guided his straining cock into her. Each let out a low groan of satisfaction, Severus gripping her hips in a crushing possessive grasp. Hermione stilled, grinding against him and his breathing hitched. Good God how long had it been since he had let a woman ride him?

Roughly, he pulled the straps of her nightgown down and groaned as her breasts sprung free. Hypnotized by their sway, he simply watched as she found her rhythm, an orgasm already building inside of him.

"Clean my face. Lick me clean like a good little slut," he growled out as she brought him closer to the edge with her undulating hips.

Tentatively, her hands cupped his cheeks, gauging their place in her blinded state, and she started to lick his face. The roughness of his late evening stubble didn't deter her, nor did his frantic thrusts upward into her body. Her breathing simply hitched over and over as her tongue bathed him.

In a wild frenzy, he counteracted the blindfold, needing to see the fire in her eyes as she was taken by him. She blinked into the bright light of the room, only to shut her eyes again as he continued his harsh thrusts.

"Im not clean yet pet," he hissed, snaking a hand between them and finding her protruding clit swollen with need.

Groaning loudly and bucking in his lap, she was thrust forward and her lips continued their path across his chin. When her desperate moans turned into a constant barrage of incoherent begging against his cheek, he pulled her head back with one hand and increased the speed of the other rubbing her to completion. Her eyes were half lidded, her face raw with the scrape of his stubble, and her bottom lip swollen from her own worrying to keep from screaming. It was enough to bring him to the crescendo.

"Cum for me, cum now," he groaned and crashed his lips to hers, sucking her tongue into his mouth and parrying it with his own. Her high pitched wail was swallowed by him and in turn he groaned loudly, thrusting up into her over and over, and spilling inside of her for the second time that day. His body trembled with the intensity of it, skitters of aftershocks, racing along his arms and legs, draining him of every ounce of energy he had.

Vaguely he felt her lips brushing softly against his own, the taste of bubblegum and her arousal heavy on her breath. Never again would he be able to catch the scent of that overly saccharine aroma without being reminded of this evening's activities.

She rested her head on his shoulder now, breathing heavily. He stroked her back, allowing her breathing to return to normal before pulling her back to look into her eyes. In his hazy, drink induced fever, she looked like a wild goddess. Hair mused, lips swollen, breasts hanging freely and still heaving slightly from their exertions, if he were a younger man he'd take her again but as of now, he didn't think he had enough in him to cast a simple cleansing charm, nevermind another vigorous round of sex with this nymph.

She smiled sleepily and stifled a yawn behind her hand, "I don't think I've ever been this tired," she croaked, voice strained from her cries.

He smirked, "Then perhaps it's time for bed, my pet."

Hermione nodded, sleep drooping her eyes and affection fluttered through him. He suppressed the feeling, surmising that her emotions must still be running high.

Shakily, she stood and adjusted the straps of her night gown. Severus frowned, such a shame to put those away. He led her to her rooms and even went so far as to tuck her into bed. As he turned to leave, she grasped his hand, stroking her thumb across his palm.

"Stay?" she whispered softly, her eyes already drifting shut.

Severus swallowed hard, dare he? The alcohol blurred his rational mind and in that moment, he couldn't think of a single reason why he shouldn't stay wrapped up in the warmth of his submissive instead of alone and cold in his own bed.

Without a word, Severus shrugged out of the rest of his clothing and slipped into the bed behind her. Instinctively, she scooted back until his spent cock was nestled between her cheeks. He pressed a tender kiss to her shoulder and let the exhaustion of today take over until he was dead to the world.

 **WHEW! Another nice long chapter for you guys. OOHHH PLEASE please tell me what you think. How do you feel about how things are transpiring? Whats your favourite line so far? Your reviews encourage me! Also I would like to send out a HUGE shout out to my Beta reader, Forcibly Down, you really are the best editor a girl could wish for. XOXO**


	17. Chapter 17

Something hard was poking at Hermione's backside and something decidedly heavy was draped across her hip and shoulder. A deep even breath fanned across her cheek and in her sleep induced haze she wondered briefly who it might be. The arms squeezed her closer and that hard something thrust softly against her. Hermione mewled a tiny sleepy whimper of want, a sound that caused her to blink awake and brought the previous night's activities back into the early morning of reality.

Snape had come back to their rooms in a foul temper, had drunk himself into half a stupor, and gave her two earth shattering, mind numbing orgasms before falling asleep in her bed at her request.

The weight on her hip shifted as her Master ground himself against her, his breathing still even suggesting he was still quite asleep. His leg and arm was wrapped possessively over her, his hand hanging limply just inches from her breast. Desire coursed through her, already needing a more intimate touch before she had even relieved her bladder.

Hermione moved to slip out from under him, careful not to jar him much so he could sleep through the morning if he wished. It was Saturday after all. His face was devoid of its usual scowl, peaceful in his rest and she decided that he was quite striking. Pale skin was offset by midnight black hair, a smattering of stubble disturbing his otherwise smooth skin. His nose was hawkish but suited his face nicely, and his lips though thin and severe, had kissed her so thoroughly she thought him a starving man and she a feast. The memory of it now caused her stomach to tighten.

No man had ever made her feel so desired, so needed. Another throb of lust, and subsequent squeeze of her bladder, pulled her to her senses and she quickly scuttled off to the adjoining bathroom.

The sight that greeted her made her gasp slightly. Her hair was a wreck, a mountain of frizz and curls, lips still swollen, bruises ached in her hips, calf, and thigh, and there was a soreness one could only get from vigorous exercise radiating through most of her body. Testing each bruise with a tentative poke she winced before a ghost of a smile danced across her features.

 _His._

Taking off her nightgown, she was sad to see no further marks of his passion marred her skin. Hermione turned away from her reflection and adjusted the shower to her desired temperature. A glance over her shoulder brought his mark across her lower back into view. If she had been told a year ago she would wear the mark of a man's ownership over her body, well, that person would have a few marks of their own for such an outlandish comment. But staring at it now, she supposed it wasn't as awful as she thought.

It was part of her agreement, she rationalized easily enough. It tied her to him and him to her, she thought with a little more effort. Although it did sort of remind her of a "tramp stamp" as they had been dubbed in the muggle world. A guilty blush stole over her features as she thought what her mother would think of it and its meaning.

Annoyance rippled through her as she twisted to get a better view. Why did it have to be in such a bloody stupid spot? She had spent hours searching for _something_ that would shift the location of the signium. So far, there was only one incantation that might work she found in an old goblin contract law book. It was wandless magic, drawing into the caster's core magic source and requiring the firmest of concentrations.

Goblin contract magic was quite astounding. Unbreakable, unexitable, unchangeable, once the documentation was signed and sealed with one's magical signature. In fact there was hardly mention at all of being able to move it except a small paragraph stating the incantation and putting emphasis on the caster's intent and devoted concentration. The mark itself was unable to be glamoured, spelled to change shape, or covered even with make-up but Hermione was nothing if not vigilant.

As the water warmed, the bathroom fogging up slightly, her lips pressed together in determination. Might as well give it a try. Closing her eyes and concentrating on the area just above her vulva, she drew her magic from her core and incanted, "Signum sucinctus."A prickling on her back, like one might experience with a leg that has fallen asleep, was the first indication that something had happened. It startled her and she lost focus on what she was supposed to be doing.

The tingling stopped and Hermione huffed in annoyance. She shifted her attention back to the area just below her hip and concentrated harder, not to be taken off guard by the sensation again. The tingling sensation built up again, travelling along her back and hip before reaching the area she was most focused on.

When the sensation dissipated, a bright burning seared into the mark, just as the first night and Hermione gasped in pain, her eyes opening wide. Through the fog of steam she saw his signature, that spikey S.S., right above her vulva, the pain vanishing as quickly as it had come. It had worked!

With a triumphant grin, she stroked the letters easily, revelling in the pleasure jolting to her core. It was such an odd connection. The signature felt as if it were directly connected to her clit and every brush against it made her ache for more. Slowly, she stroked his letters, shuddering with the wonderful effects it was having on her body. For so long that spiky script had taunted her, jeered her, left snide remarks on essay after essay as she desperately tried to impress him. Now it was a part of her, emblazoned on her skin and reminding her of the wicked things that man had done with that acerbic tongue.

Without further caressing, she showered quickly, wanting to be out before he awoke and left her bed. Perhaps he'd take her again. Tied to the four poster bed on her hands and knees. Maybe he'd spank her for being such a naughty girl the day before. A pang of want shot through her as she shut off the water. If she didn't calm herself down she was going to be mental by lunch.

Wrapping a towel in her hair and another around her body, she brushed her teeth to what she knew would be her parents very high expectations and stepped out of the bathroom, a trail of fog following after her.

The dark wizard in her bed was just rousing, rolling onto his back and stretching, with a rather impressive tent lifting her bedsheets. It was rather… cute, especially when he let out a low groan of satisfaction. Well, that was more sexy than cute, his deep timbre raspy with the lack of use during his sleep. Certainly he would hex her for thinking him something as girlish as cute.

He blinked his eyes open and Hermione quickly looked away, blushing scarlet to be caught staring at him so openly. What was wrong with her? He simply sat up in bed, watching her curiously, eyeing the twist on her head with an unspoken question.

Another strong blush stained her cheeks, "If I dry it magically, it will be impossible to do anything with."

A slow smirk graced his features, and it was so incredibly sexy to her that her breathing hitched in her throat. "Yes, as opposed to its usual orderliness," he teased.

Hermione glared, sensitive about her wild tresses as they had been an object of ridicule nearly all her life, "You laugh but it would be far worse than you've ever seen."

"Now the experimentalist in me is curious," he said with a feral grin.

Eyeing his wand on the bedside table, just within his grasp, she whimpered softly, "Please, Sir, dont."

He chuckled, shaking his head slightly, "It's far too early and I'm far too hungover for such shenanigans this morning."

Hermione pouted slightly wondering if that meant he would not be up for other things as well. He certainly _seemed_ up for such things. Without warning, he pulled the sheets away from him and she swallowed hard as his body came into view. This was her first real view of him completely naked.

Severus sat on the edge of the bed and rubbed the sleep from his eyes. He was pale, a stark contrast to the dark hairs on his chest, arms and legs. The scar on his neck was as angry looking as she could recall seeing on her trips to St. Mungo's. He was lean but not weak looking, a slight definition on his legs and arms that tensed and flexed with his movements. Hermione swallowed as her gaze drifted to his softening member. That, she could certainly say, she was very familiar with.

Her gaze flickered to his arm, his left arm where the dark mark once slithered forebodingly, to see not a bit of discolouration marred his skin. Equally, she was relieved and envious. Relieved that Voldemort was dead and would not return. Envious as her own glaring scar on her arm would never be healed.

"What?" he snapped her from her thoughts.

With a small shake she looked into his eyes and saw he seemed guarded, his posture rigid as if he were daring her to say something demeaning. "The mark … I never noticed until now that it was gone," she said gesturing to his arm.

His eyes glanced to her own arm where the slander was carved into her, "Yes, well, thank Merlin for small miracles," he said dismissively. Again his eyes travelled down the length of her towel clad form and she could see his cock starting to swell again. Good God she wanted him. Now. But she knew he would not take to her ordering him about, even if it was to straddle his hips and ride him within an inch of his life.

"If you'd like, you're welcome to use the shower here, Sir," she said lowering her eyes demurely.

She heard him rise from the bed and was nearly trembling in anticipation when his bare feet came into view before her. He was so close she could feel his body heat radiating off of him. Magic sparked, electrifying the air around them and making her nipples rock hard beneath the towel she clutched to her.

"I think I will, Miss. Granger," his voice rumbled next to her ear, sending gooseflesh travelling along her arms and a shiver down her spine that had nothing to do with the chill of her rooms. "I'll be needing this."

The towel was ripped from her grip, a squeak of indignation leaving her lips as she attempted to cover her body with her hands. Before she could say a word of protest, he had already turned and made his way to the bathroom, a deep chuckle following after him.

When the door had clicked shut and the sound of running water whirred in the other room, Hermione shook her hair dry and layed the second towel on her study chair. Perhaps she could get a chapter in while he showered. Naked. Maybe then he'd have an idea of what to do with her once he was clean. They would most definitely need a second shower if his thoughts were similar to her own.

Taking the book from under her pillow, she laid stomach down and began to peruse Chapter 13: Restraints, Bondage, and Suspension. Her limited interaction with Severus seemed to suggest he very much liked restraining her. In nearly every interaction her arms or hands had been restrained in some way. And then there was the night he had suspended her blindfolded and left her sobbing like a child. She frowned wishing that she had been able to see what the suspension had looked like. Were the ropes visible or invisible like the tethers that usually held her down? Perhaps they could conjure a mirror next time.

It had shocked her then, the threat of punishment and complete disappointment radiating through him sending her nearly into hysterics, but now pleasure trickled down her spine as she imagined being so completely under his control.

She shook her head admonishingly. When had she become such a slave to her baser instincts? Since when did Hermione Granger want to be under anyone's control and used as a sexual plaything? A shiver shot down her spine, since Severus Snape. No one had ever made her feel so utterly out of control with her body responses. It was as if he knew her body better than she did. If that was the case, then why not let him truss her up with rope? Letting him spank her had never lead to her dissatisfaction. And being the object of his lust hadn't lead her astray so far.

All she wanted now was for him to desire her, for his attention to be solely focused on her, and to please him greatly so he would hold her through the night like he had just done. And maybe, just maybe, he could repeat the fire of last night's kiss.

Shaking the memory from her head, she returned her attention to the book in front of her. The images were quite spectacular, one witch was suspended nearly upside down, her mouth level to her Masters straining placket. Another was a male submissive suspended horizontally, cock straining upward like some obscene candle on an otherwise flat table. With each new picture one thought remained constant through her mind, all of these submissives looked as if they were caught in a web. Ropes weaved around them in intricate patterns and trussed them to the ceiling. Some seemed to be strictly for visual appeal while some seemed to be offering significant weight support. The use of their limbs was either limited or completely restricted, and their Masters/Mistresses leered with obvious lustful intent. A flush travelled down her chest; how she longed to be trapped in Severus Snape's web. Prey to his predator.

A sharp thwack and subsequent sting radiated across her backside and she cried out in surprise. She hadn't heard the shower stop and she hadn't heard him stalk over to her on the bed. Instantly she was snapped out of her fantasies, an angry retort ready to fly from her mouth.

Another sharp sting came down on the other side and the words died on her lips. Pleasure radiated to her overly excitable clit and instead a choked moan came out instead. His rough hands kneaded her backside roughly, pulling them apart and opening up her most secret parts to him, before letting them go with another swat.

"What a naughty little girl you are reading such filth this early," he purred, sitting down on the bed beside her as a hand stroked across the cleft of her ass so gently it caused her brain to short circuit momentarily with the contrast. Rough, soft, hard, gentle, this man was going to drive her bonkers. "Were you hoping this delectable sight would excite me?"

Hermione moaned and nodded, knowing that only the truth would potentially get her what she wanted. His cock, deep inside of her. A deep chuckle made her heart throb. Twice she had made him laugh this morning now.

"Such a little minx perhaps I should-" suddenly his hand stilled, the soft caressing ceasing before his voice turned cold, "What... have you done?"

Confused, she turned her head to look up into his irate gaze. The absolute fury held within them startled her into silence. What _had_ she done? She'd simply been reading! Naked granted, and sure maybe she was trying to sway him to take her again but was that so bad it warranted this anger? Fear pounded wildly through her body. "Master?" she questioned meekly.

Severus flipped her over abruptly, straddling her hips in one swift movement and pinning her arms above her head in a bruising grip, "Did you think I wouldn't notice? Do you take me for a fool?" he hissed, crazed eyes boring into her own fearful ones.

Anger radiated from him, his harsh breathing fanned across her lips as he leaned over her, and spittle sprayed her cheek in his rage. Despite the heat of their naked bodies in direct contact, he was far from hard and any rising desire within her was doused with fear.

"Who did it? Who did you tell of our arrangement?" he barked.

"No one! I haven't told a soul!" she shouted back. Her own anger swelled within her, regardless of her commitment to him she refused to be treated this way in anger. There was a line she would never allow to be crossed.

"Do not lie to me," he growled. "Was it Potter or Weasley?"

"I didn't-"

"You've always had a soft spot for simpering idiots, Lockhart, Krum, Weasley. Did you think he would _save_ you?"

Fury and embarrassment coloured her cheeks, "I never-"

He was deaf to her, every sentence cut off before she could finish, his hands were a vice over her own and pain throbbed in her wrists, "No, Weasley is too much an idiot to be able to break such complicated magic, perhaps Bill then? Making your way through the Weasley tree?" he sneered.

Fire blazed from inside of her and in a fit of wandless magic he was thrown off of her and onto the floor at the foot of the bed. "SHUT UP!" she screeched.

She stood on the bed, glaring down at his crumpled form as he righted himself. "If you'd just _listen_ and _look_ you'd see your mark is still quite there!"

Severus' cold eyes snapped to hers, glancing down her naked form to where she pointed to the newly located mark. It was still there, his signature, as inky black and spikey as it had always been against her flesh. A moment passed, he didn't ask how she had done it, he didn't ask why, he simply stared at the mark and stood slowly, a flicker of emotion passing through his eyes that she couldn't read before he closed himself off to her.

She didn't care. She didn't care if he felt bad. She didn't care if he regretted his actions. Right now she was a roiling ball of heat and anger and no amount of contrition could deter her from this inferno.

"If you ever lay a hand on me like that again, you will find yourself back in 's for an unspecified amount of time," she hissed, using his own threatening tone against him.

A muscle in his jaw twitched, either from fear of the memory or irritation at her gall to dare try to intimidate him, she didn't care so long as he got the point. Her chest was heaving with adrenaline as was his and several beats passed where they simply glared at one another. Occasionally his eyes glanced down to the mark, as if to ascertain that it really was his signature across her skin.

"In the future, you will not move your mark without explicit permission from me," he said in a low tone.

For a moment she felt like continuing, prolonging the fight and making him apologize for being such a complete and utter asshole. She might be screaming all day if she tried.

Hermione nodded instead, her lips tight.

Severus stalked out of her rooms without another word and frustration swelled inside of her. He was impossible! She had only moved the mark to be able to see it better! With a growl of annoyance, Hermione slammed the door to her rooms shut.

A muttered tempus told her it was nearly nine and she knew she had to be in the lab within an hour. Donning her very Gryffindor-esque apprentice robes, she made for the Great Hall, noting his door remained shut and warded to her. Good. Breakfast with the boys should cheer her up somewhat before spending the day back under the Potions Master's critical eye.

 **Sorry for the extra long delay! Holidays and all that jazz, the shop has been extra busy with preparations. As usual tell me what you think? How do you feel about Snape's reaction? Was Hermione in her right to totally knock him on his ass? What comes next? AH so excited. Reviews please!**


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